a battle played and won between the inner self and world outside
I, the greatest admirer of him, believed in his world, his craving for the lost humanization, his assets of a great survivor and life he lived.
Thick woods lined with the roads of civilization, in those woods and the dense solitude lives the human I am talking about. Untouched by the pricking eyes or your thoughts, lies in his moor, Husain.
Moor of happiness, pleasure of accomplishing the cipher. Nothing more does he demand but to be left undisturbed with his solitude.
Husain did think bout us, the people, on the stones in the gushing waters of his rivers, while ploughing his lands, while planning his own ventures, on his way to the exotic hut in the purple sunsets, but never did he go beyond thanking Mr. God that he is away.
Husain, born to a rich landlord somewhere in north India, was following the achievements his parents dreamt of ...with each achievement the dream became bigger. He never thought of separating out for he loved to relish though short-lived satisfaction. The satisfaction of being different, doing things boys his age never could have done and of course, the family felt proud of him, what more would he want. With the growing years his inner self shrinked making him quiet in the outer world day by day, showing him the picture he was missing till then, the picture of 'Being his Self'.
Why he felt the void?....Why he longed something?....Why was he alone?...the questions he couldn't answer!
Now he lacked the zeal to go ahead into a fighting circle his parents wanted cause this time he didn't want it! No body could understand his reasons, protests, logical thinking. He seemed to be a capable person wasting himself at the cost of his parent's money. I didn't think him as a wise man either.
Like a wanderer in a barren land searching for an outlet, he spend his days and waited for somebody to find him through, that day " I will find myself anew and go about changing lives and achieving my life". The day never came practically, but he was not the one to wait for his mentor endlessly.
Husain turned into his own mentor, searching his inner self, watering the soul and flowering the moor inside. He alone and yet alone thought of his own good, what he would like to weave out of his life for the love of being the only one. His belief in himself brought him out of this world making him to carve out his own territory, his own plans and his own good.
Short story by jasrick
Read 602 times
Written on 2007-03-19 at 15:28
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"Husain"- the inner self
Of all the divine hotch potch, the achieving aspirations, the grinding hopes; he survived like a blinking lighthouse. Sounding distressed of all the dreams people ask him to accommodate, he can stand aloof in the storm and the love. Could he be called a wanderer in this moor of dead souls! Not a savior, I warrantee. However, to him all people like us were mere puppets, like dead coming to life in movies. Never did he feel more real among them but at least he was the only living soul much at ease with his shadow. He walked the wrong lands, touched the doomed hearts, and surrendered in wrong hands. Did he give up to the decree of human heart or was he forced to be what he is?I, the greatest admirer of him, believed in his world, his craving for the lost humanization, his assets of a great survivor and life he lived.
Thick woods lined with the roads of civilization, in those woods and the dense solitude lives the human I am talking about. Untouched by the pricking eyes or your thoughts, lies in his moor, Husain.
Moor of happiness, pleasure of accomplishing the cipher. Nothing more does he demand but to be left undisturbed with his solitude.
Husain did think bout us, the people, on the stones in the gushing waters of his rivers, while ploughing his lands, while planning his own ventures, on his way to the exotic hut in the purple sunsets, but never did he go beyond thanking Mr. God that he is away.
Husain, born to a rich landlord somewhere in north India, was following the achievements his parents dreamt of ...with each achievement the dream became bigger. He never thought of separating out for he loved to relish though short-lived satisfaction. The satisfaction of being different, doing things boys his age never could have done and of course, the family felt proud of him, what more would he want. With the growing years his inner self shrinked making him quiet in the outer world day by day, showing him the picture he was missing till then, the picture of 'Being his Self'.
Why he felt the void?....Why he longed something?....Why was he alone?...the questions he couldn't answer!
Now he lacked the zeal to go ahead into a fighting circle his parents wanted cause this time he didn't want it! No body could understand his reasons, protests, logical thinking. He seemed to be a capable person wasting himself at the cost of his parent's money. I didn't think him as a wise man either.
Like a wanderer in a barren land searching for an outlet, he spend his days and waited for somebody to find him through, that day " I will find myself anew and go about changing lives and achieving my life". The day never came practically, but he was not the one to wait for his mentor endlessly.
Husain turned into his own mentor, searching his inner self, watering the soul and flowering the moor inside. He alone and yet alone thought of his own good, what he would like to weave out of his life for the love of being the only one. His belief in himself brought him out of this world making him to carve out his own territory, his own plans and his own good.
Short story by jasrick
Read 602 times
Written on 2007-03-19 at 15:28
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
