He was alone. Wandering everywhere in his city. Rains of desperate prayers in the graveyard. He longed. He searched for persons left long ago. Somewhere in his town. In jungles of mourning wishes. In search of light. Afar from everyone. But inside the hearts. He smiles and comes back to his home, restless. Sleepless.
He was only seven when everyone in his village left. In class 2. He was the only son, with four sisters. Elder than him, all his sisters had married. His father was a doctor, mother a teacher. He was settled in the city with his parents. When asked to accept the new environment, he maintained silence. And shouted deep inside his heart.
“Nine years is not a small duration,” he heard deep inside. “When was it?” he said.
“And you choose silence over everything,” it responded him. “For I grave it,” he said.
“Why have you pitied yourself?” it questioned. “Aren’t I?” he countered. Then there was nothing for quite a few times.
“Unless you choose it yourself,” it said in a desperate tone. The quote and the tone dismissed him deep inside. He had something to say but then he chose silence. Deep inside, he knew he was short. Of everything.
The morning was yellower. Everything anew. New dreams had welcomed him. With his eyes closed. And opened, sometimes. His glimpse was destined. His steps were meaningful. His wishes were short, with impacts very long. It was his life, thenceforth.
He had no friends afar any longer. His goals on his path. His future on his hold. His present was his delight. With him, each star was brightened. Darkness was a matter of myth. Yes, he had met life. In its true essence. In its actual form. Somewhere in his village. Beneath his land of wishes.
Silence was no longer an option. Vociferations no longer a fate. Grievances deemed, and degraded. Everything on note. Everything on way. The journey to wishes was a dream come true. For many a person. When destined to, everyone meets. Someday. Somewhere here. He was happy. He was smiling. Without faking it.
“Definitions change,” he told his self, “in a matter of time.” He was proud. “So said I,” both laughed. And the story begins in the last page of the last chapter of his last book. A touch of life.
