A Lonely Road

The man had never cared about the chain of exuberant ‘good’ things that the world had to offer for quite some time now. He thought all that’s important are the things connected to making money out of every single plan he had in his mind. The happiest day was when he stood first in class for consecutive years during graduation. When he was on stage that evening, addressing the gathering, starting to share his brilliantly written speech he didn’t know who his friends really were among the crowd, even when he wanted to thank someone. Nevertheless, what he said left everyone speechless.

Years later, he stood at the centre of the city, a man who had achieved everything he ever wanted in life. He paused; waiting and hesitating to ask for more. He questioned himself if there were any immoral things he did, for having everything but yet not knowing what went missing. No answers.

He always believed in his grandfather, a man who died a lonely death at the stroke of midnight, peacefully. He once had a dream of being the happiest person alive, but now he knew that somewhere in the middle of his demanding calendar, his dreams had crashed and split like a million stars in the night sky. If he said he didn’t plan for it to turn out this way he’d be lying. Just like his grandfather.

He looked at his phone, with sparkling diamonds surrounding its case, shimmering at the tip of his fingers. He continued to look; there wasn’t a single call from the one’s he loved. He felt like the world stopped for once. He ran through all the memories he could recollect, but he couldn’t manage to gather even a handful. He knew nothing ever came as a piece of cake to him, he had struggled over and over every single time he lost. So much so that he didn’t even have a clue of how he had lost them all.

That night, when he stood wearing his magnificent black suit among the people with whom he shared his success, he couldn’t recognize the person he was any more, or who belonged with him all through his journey of life. The celebration was ordinary. The success didn’t really matter any more. The wine he held tasted like poison, he couldn’t enjoy one sip of it. He could sense something was choking him at that moment. The crowd began to make him feel uncomfortable. He rushed outside and waved at his driver who stood by his bold sumptuous dark brown car with bright lights shining in the rain. He stood in the heavy rain staring at it, unconsciously paying attention to the buzz around him; a part of him wanted a hand to hold and walk back all the way. He couldn’t figure out why there was such a long but subtle conversation going on over such a petty thing in his head. ‘The small things in life actually do matter’ something told him. When he returned home, everything around him seemed blurred. He looked for that note his loved one left, which said

Life isn’t a race, take it slow,

Sometimes you win, sometimes you learn

I know, change is never easy. We fight to hold on and stop to let go.

This is my time to let go.”

He never understood what it meant so clearly, like the way he did now. He felt happy about the first tear that oozed down his cheek after years. It reminded him of her, more and more as he stared at the piece of note that hung at the edge of the book. An unexplainable feeling that ripped his heart spoke a million words at once. Never did he feel so agonized before when he was busy running for his fame. A sudden sense of discontentment made him burst into tears. For the scars you can’t see are the hardest to heal. The day ended leaving behind a question, how had he survived so far. The giant walls didn’t let a trace of mourning escape them. Neither did anyone stop him or held his hands close to calm him down. As much as he wished that there was at least one other person around him to see him weep and listen to him pour his heart out. The thoughts that crossed his mind at that instance left him with questions, which he didn’t quite have the answers to.

He grew exhausted as days passed by. He felt a tinge of regret as he stopped going to his work place for a while. When he continued thinking he felt good, good that he had finally decided that he didn’t want to move on. Instead he wanted to hold on a little tighter to what he thought should stay with him forever. Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful he thought, ‘The story isn’t over yet’. He wanted to live. Live everyday like he owned it. That night, he lay on his back to count the stars and sang along to his radio.

‘…there are places I remember, though some have changed,

Some forever not for better, some have gone and some remain…’

He was not certain about things and felt hesitant to send the message through to his family. He knew they needed him, always. The unanswered calls and texts over all the years made him wonder if they even knew what he was doing. He wanted them to know he’s alive, happy and healthy. The email he wrote that night to his father included every detail of how he lived since he had left. That moment he sensed his grandfather was around, watching him with an elusive smile. That night he didn’t just walk in the rain but enjoyed every drop that fell on him with tears of joy in his eyes. He once again counted his blessings for being accepted. When he woke up the next morning, it was a new day all over again. The only difference being, he was not alone and much happier.

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