Thursday, 17 February 2011


Amidst different pathways on offer , he chose the brightest one. The dazzle of the road ahead left him in awe of it. The rush was spontaneous, lacking  thought, yet not as blinded as an animal’s chase of fodder.  On the way he found a well lying by the side of the glittering road, dark, desolate and rickety. He was thirsty, yet not enough to bring himself to drink out of that well, and with the pace he was moving the well was soon past him.  After having run another ten miles he found an inn by the side of the road. The inn was rather a hut, inhabited by a harridan lady, shouting out orders to the workers around her. All of them were busy cleaning the land. With the sun having come over his head now, the sweat beads glittered on their swarthy bodies.  He felt thirsty now, more so after looking at them. Yet again, he couldn’t allow himself to get to them. He sped past them as well. And so on , along the way he found similar things, but couldn’t get himself to drink anywhere. By the time, he had been almost exhausted; he couldn’t find any more sources of water by the side of road.

He had almost reached a different place, where perhaps water was not a concern. In search he started digressing from Main Street to the villages by the side, but he could nowhere find water.  A sudden change happened to him later, thirst of water was killed by the same extremity of thirst. He sat down by the side of the road, and began to think. The thirst has been killed, and yet I am still alive. I ought to be killed too, but death didn’t approach him. A faint fear loomed over his head and he collapsed, when he woke, he no longer felt the fear of things around. No thirst found way to his throat, and he turned to the villages around, becoming one with them, perhaps waiting for another human to come some day and see him transform.

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