The Magic Within

‘Life is like a withered leaf, that decays and reunites with the nature with renewed energy.

Life is big. Or rather, it should be. You know, it saddens me. The people. Now don’t you think I am averse to the mankind. I am a faction of it. And this fact saddens me more,’ said the old chap with gloom on his face.

It became his home. Or rather his second home. Everyday, he came here and spent hours doing nothing except staring in the dark. But it didn’t seem pointless. The big playground was offering him something. Or maybe it was the sole place offering him nothing, and he was happy for it. Only the twitching of his forehead might know the truth.

‘You know Peggy, the flowers you see there have a magic in them. They can make themselves disappear. But I wonder why they never reappear. Maybe they know only half the trick…haha! And they do it extremely well you see.’

The season of rainfall had started embracing the city. It began pouring all day. Like the raindrops were narrating a never-ending ballad.

‘Listen to the sound, Peggy. Just listen. The peace it carries. Do you find the voice of any human-like creature this melodious?? Well…I don’t. I didn’t find it yesterday. I didn’t find it today. I won’t find it tomorrow. People have lost that voice, or rather that tongue altogether! Or maybe the nature is speaking with that tongue through the mouth of these raindrops. Ohh nature is marvelous I told you..haha,’ happiness came on his face for a jiffy, and then returned to the cave of unknown.

‘People think I am mad, Peggy. That I blabber all the time. I have heard these. These talks. Life is beautiful only as long as the mankind knows its limits and doesn’t cross it. Mankind is plummeting from the lofty mountain of strayed advancement. I can very clearly see that. These people cannot. And they call me mad because I tell them reality, and I am not mad,’ he said raising his voice almost to the level of shout, his eyes wetting.

‘But no. I have learnt to be at peace. The playground has taught me the power of silence. Saying without speaking. Offering without expecting.’

The cold winds rushed through his cheeks.

p.s. – The simplest of things tend to baffle the human minds.


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