The Cricket's Love Song

In the light of the day, the sun shone over an abandoned house next to a two-way road. Cars, lorries, buses, and motorcycles traveled along that road which took them towards rows of tall gated mansions and hill-side bungalows. Within their gates were splendorous gardens that were constantly bursting with blooms of every colour and trees that were divine with green.

Past these houses were schools, shop lots, markets, hospitals, and temples. There, the children went to school, the adults went to work, and the merchants went about their business. There was no one who went without and there was never a silent moment.

While everyone was occupied with their busy lives, the grasses grew tall and spread all around the house and beyond. The trees grew up wild and high. Weeds sprung up from every crack in the concrete. Leafy bushes and shrubs branched through the thin wire fence surrounding the house.

When the night fell, the two-way road was left bare and naked. It would count itself lucky in the presence of moonlight for the city council had forgotten to light it. Between the empty road and the abandoned house was an equally neglected bus stop. In fact, no one would have known it was a bus stop at first glance. The paint had peeled off. The sign had rusted. The little bits of paint that clung onto the metal would soon be scraped off by the wind of the next monsoon. The bus stop provided no shelter for the rain nor light for the night. The only bit of hospitality it offered was a lonely wooden bench for the fools who dared brave the dark for a bus ride.

However, the night wasn't completely silent. Through the greenery and the messy thicket of life, was a hopeful young cricket whose life was just beginning. He hopped out of a bush and felt the crisp cold air tingling on his thin little legs. The cricket took a deep breath and listened to the sounds around him. There was no rustling in the bushes. Only the little clicking of ants and cockroaches. There were also no frogs. More importantly, the other crickets' chirpings were faint and far away. He flew over to some grassy weeds and dug himself a burrow. He leant towards the burrow, raised his forewings and played a few notes. The sound reverberated throughout the area. It was loud. It was pronounced. It sounded good.

He raised his forewings again and began to play his song. The ants hurried along to the rhythm. On occasion, a busy cockroach would pause to listen. The cricket's song was loud and clear. Sometimes, it sounded like a whistle, sometimes like a shrill flute. Night after night, he would come back to the same spot, dig a burrow, and play. At dawn, he would disappear into the lush thicket behind the bus stop to rest.

One night after a nice dinner, the cricket came back to the bus stop to play. He sensed someone nearby and stopped his chirping to look around. He was right. This time, there was a young lady sitting on the bench. She stood up, unfolded the wine-coloured shawl around her dainty shoulders and wrapped it around her body. The cricket hopped up quietly onto the bench for a closer look. He saw that she was alone and took pity on her. 

"Good evening, miss," the cricket greeted. The lady turned her head but did not see anyone next to her. "Down here," the cricket called out. The lady tilted her head down and squealed at the sight of the cricket. "It's okay. Don't be alarmed. I'm only a cricket." The lady calmed herself down. "What's a lady like you doing all alone at night?"

"I was waiting for someone earlier in the office nearby." She glanced down onto her lap. "Now I'm just waiting for the bus."

"Do you mind if I keep you company tonight?" the cricket asked. "I too am waiting for someone."

The lady nodded and scooted over.

"Thank you." The cricket made himself comfortable. "Would you mind some music?"

"No, no, not at all." The lady looked away. The cricket raised his forewings and started chirping for the night. One hour later, a pair of bright glowing lights appeared a distance away. As it got closer, the cricket called out to the lady, "Lady, there's your bus." She didn't respond. He called out again, "Lady, your bus is here!" She still didn't move. The cricket sighed and shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was about to do. He flew up onto her shoulder and chirped as loudly as he could. The lady startled awake. "Miss, your bus is here."