The occasional chirping of crickets punctuated the otherwise dead night. He laid awake on the bare floor, naked save for his boxers.
It wasn’t just because he liked the coolness of the ground but also because it gave him a sense of closeness to mother earth.
His eyes had grown familiar to the darkness around him and he could almost make out the outline of the room if he tried hard enough. But he wasn’t trying tonight. Even though his eyes seemed fixated on the vacuum above him, his mind’s eyes were somewhere far away.
He was in a field taking in the scent of freshly cut grass. In the near distance was his grandpa whom they all called “Baami”. But Baami was not as old as he later became before death finally took him. No, Baami had a glow in his eyes that told so much about the warm aura he radiated whenever one was around him.
He looked around, taking in the empty stretch of land before him, a clearance indicating preparedness for the coming sowing season.
Visiting Baami was one of the things he looked forward to in his younger years. How he loved it when the elderly man would bounce him on his knees in the evenings in the front yard while a kerosene lamp burned steadily!
Baami would sing some old tunes to him till he fell asleep in his arms. He remembered thinking once while looking into Baami’s cloudy left eye if Baami was a different species of homo. The level of wisdom, love and diligence the old man showed towards his work and family was out of this world.
He heard Baami call out to him in the empty fields. “Night is gathering,” Baami said. “Let us go home.”
He skipped along beside Baami, trying to keep pace with the agile elderly man. He didn’t mind that walking back home took them several minutes; in the company of Baami, time seemed to stand still.
“Look! Look!” He suddenly squealed in delight as he ran after a firefly which seemed to be leading him on. He heard Baami’s soft laughter behind him.
“If you can catch it and bring it here alive, I’ll show you something”.
Delighted, he followed the firefly off the track into the low brush. Then he stopped dead. What looked like a thousand fireflies rose up around him, their yellow pulsating lights creating a scenic wonder.
Abandoning his mission, he watched in admiration, not noticing that Baami had also stopped beside him to take in the beautiful display of lights.
Then, in a low voice, as if to not announce their presence to the fireflies, Baami said, “You know, our people believe that the souls of our lost loved ones reside in these fireflies.”
He looked up with interest, tearing his eyes away from the fireflies.
Baami crouched, “Not wanting to abandon us, they inhabit these otherwise boring creatures to beautify our nights and teach us to always appreciate the little things.”
He looked at the now dispersing bugs and asked, “Is mommy one of them?”
Baami picked him up with no effort, the smile on his face unwavering, and tapped his chest, “Mommy lives on in our hearts forever. And yes, she comes as a firefly sometimes, too.”
Baami turned around still carrying him and started walking home. “That is why you should never kill a firefly because one day I’ll be one of them.”
He soon noticed that the crickets had stopped their chirping and the night was deathly quiet. He got up and found his way to the nearest window, the thoughts of Baami suddenly overwhelming in.
In the darkness outside his window, he suddenly saw the flicker of yellow light. The light drew near, stopped close to him for a moment, then flew away into the darkness.
He smiled, went back to lie on the floor and fell asleep with a smile still on his face.
