Audacity of Emotions

A JOURNEY OF REGRET

He opened the doors to the fully packed hall and the stuffy air,a mixture of anxiety and eagerness brushed against his stiffened cheecks. It was a scent he was familiar with because he had had uncountable experiences before. A job he loved so much for the past 10 years. As he looked into the crowd,so vibrant and full of life. He could not help but remember his youthful days,all he could remember was merry making and laughter and what it had costed him. Wages of his sins was not death,but a tough trek on thorny lands. A captive of his actions that bit him on his face every time he wished to push it back his mind. He was a lucky man and he had to appreciate the fact that he was constantly feeding from a golden spoon but he was still an unhappy man. He looked at the hall unseeing everything else but the shinny eyes of his audience, his children. He felt so protective of them,like he could scoop them in his arms and shield them from the gnaws and gnats of the evil world. The world that robbed him his precious health and heaped him with just the papers.
He had come for the last of his sessions to call it a day. All he could wish for was his legs to be loyal. He could feel the sharp migraine at the temple of his head but he was bleeding to deliver his last speech, somehow he felt it could make a difference. He had to fight his illness for just another hour.

"I was an addict of drugs and the worldy juice and fruits,during my era,we smoked pure tobacco and sipped beer that soothed our throats and grazed our livers but it made us feel like "A MAN". Look at me"

His voice vibrated over the microphone and the echo carried into the corners of the hall,knocking from ear to ear. He paused and spoke again.

"Yes,I am a man but I am a sick man. A man who is at the last stages of liver cirrhosis. A man who buried his daughter and sons to the same demon. A man who is rich but cannot afford his own health"

He took his tissue and wiped the tears from his eyes. His head was now throbbing .

"I am a man who walks on fours but I crawl to my bed. I was a man of the night but now I dread the night because it reminds me of the empty house and the awaiting pain. All thanks to drugs and living a careless life. I regret but you are my children"
" I smoked tobacco from age 24 till today at age 65 and am paying for it now but who is worse? A generation was lost to "mild" intoxications but your generation my children will be lost to flavoured smoke. Poisonous, affecting both the hes and the shes. Shisha!. It is worse than cigar, worse than beer and worse than the "flu" it's death put in a pot flavoured and scented all the way to your grave!"

His eyes were now shinny and teary. He could feel his legs betraying him.

"Engage your souls in better things and I rather you die of poverty but with your health intact than my daughters to fall prey of money through cheaper sources or my sons to smoke their senses out. It is not worth it........I regret my sins but If I pass on today... my message shall be heard. ...i..was ......eerrrrr ........".

The hall turned bleak and his legs finally betrayed him . He fell on the podium with jist and the breeze slapped his cold cheecks again. The air around him was heavy with confusion and sorrow. The "flu " might have killed him,the cirrhosis might have caged him but now he was a free man to finally take his rest.

It was upon the take if his listeners to take the massage because the messenger was long gone to glory.