In the whole world, everything is beautiful and temporary but some memories are permanent and some moments are the entire presumption of human life. Generally, I have heard multifold voices, but they lacked something in them… that naughty voice which does not let humans be aged. How amazing that only amidst the wave of one voice, there resides thousand colors that too each differs from the other!
“Is it possible?” Gohram questioned his self. He was lost in the given thought… he had unconsciously sailed too far in his thought – as far as it was impossible for him to return.
“How could I even return,” he thought suddenly.
When something leaves a deep impression on the soul, it becomes difficult to get over that. Perhaps these feelings are as attached with human psyche as flesh in a bone… like, both are mandatory.
Gohram, worryingly and astonishingly, was mounting questions on himself. He was as engrossed in talking to his self that he did not realize how hazardous it was to health to walk out in January without a sweater. Perhaps there was relief in that naughty voice.
Yes! It is not solely a voice but a whole incomplete story – a story that has no characters except the moment in which this voice reached to someone’s ears. Hence, began the story… an incomplete story which may never be completed.
“Completion is death… that’s why incomplete things are beautiful.” Gohram was undergoing such mysteries. Suddenly, the cell phone rang.
How desperately these voices interrupt the human thoughts! There appears to be so many kinds of voices! Some voices jump in our souls and stay, and some that scatter our souls. I wish voices were not as human beings…. like good and evil.
Who knows, that strange voice was of whom… for whom…. but that was beautiful and naughty.
