Long were the days and the nights didn't stand too long, it was the way nature declared spring, the cheerful weather which did not bring any cheer into my heart. Winter seemed to have ended soon that I couldn't get enough from the rain which rarely came. Even in the coldest days and when the clouds covered the sky, rain was not something to be expected, it was the most hateful place a man can imagine -a man with feelings if I might say-. Still, everyone seemed to live happily here, not for me, I only wanted to leave as soon as possible, and find a place where I can be free from the society, a place where one can be himself, free of chains.
Spring, I hate this time of the year, and what can make it worse than having been acknowledged as an adult, which brings more responsibilities, that is, in my opinion, merely another way for adults to control you and your actions, even when you grow up and break loss from their "you are still a child" cage. It was my 18th birthday, I was born in a day were the last cloud cleared from the sky, something to remind me that even the day of my birth, it was only a farewell to all the good things in life. Only a journey that starts with tears and screams, while people stand around you laughing, and ends with joy and laughter, while people around you crying.
I had just finished my high school and needed to find a college to study. My father wanted me to work with him in the tobacco farming, and my mother did not want me to leave the countryside, she usually said "Kiran, don't you dare to think that I will allow you to leave this place! You still remember what happened to your uncle Rob?". Uncle Rob was the man I took as my idol in life, he left to follow his dreams and work as a writer in some local newspaper against my grandfather's well, and he returned empty-handed after 10 years of work. Everyone took him as an example of what happens when you leave your home to chase untamed dreams. But still, I only saw the spark in his eyes when he used to tell me about his adventures. The way he talked about the smell of ink and paper, and how much words and knowledge can white papers hold when the black rill pour on its surface to form a romantic tale of two lovers colliding into each other, to become one, designed artwork, nothing is able to disconnect, made me realize what is the real treasure in life, and what a man should follow rather than gold and coins which had no true value of their own. But the things a man should go after are what can stand out alone as beautiful and mighty on their own; like literature and arts, these things that exist in nature without the human hands ever touching them, but only trying to copy a piece of them in our own way. For which story is greater and sadder than the tragedy of the moon and the sun? What art is more elysian than the earth and the stars? What love can be compared to the yearning of the dry, cracked soil to the rain? Only in these, you will find true value, only in nature, you might find yourself.
Words were my passion, the way they form imagination and how they can affect. For they seemed to be the only thing in life able to understand me, and what is more pleasant than finding something with the ability to understand and describe our feelings? Isn't that what we all want?
"Weltschmerz; the sorrow that one feels and accepts as one's necessary portion in life."
Only a word, but it is able to digest a long path of life and suffering, a thousand attempt to adapt, to reach this feeling of satisfaction, with only a few letters that create a musical sound when said, like an inner soul song. There was I, hiding inside the white space, the lacuna between the characters, they were my latibule, my Saviour, and my heimat.
"Follow your dreams boy, find what you love and follow it to glory, for there is nothing worth more than chasing what you love, and what matters only the road, the journey to catch your imagination and transport it into the light." That is what he said -uncle Rob-, that is what he always told me, and I believed every word of it. But where will that road lead? To put your heart and mind into something and follow it with all the passion you have. But what if you failed? wouldn't you lose both? Why the things we love have the ability to destroy us the most, both mentally, and emotionally? For me, I wanted my dreams to kill me, I knew there would be comfort in that pain; what is more beautiful than getting destroyed by the hands of what you love?
YOU ARE READING
A Mere Reflection
Short StoryI'd like to consider each part a story in itself. While I always connected the characters with each other, something felt different in each part. It's a story about many aspects of our thoughts, some of which never have touch with reality, and some...
