Friday, June 24, 2011

THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE: a story

Once a man decided to change his fate. So he packed up his bag and left to visit a renowned man named ‘Every man’s friend’ who lived on the very top of the highest mountain. With dreams galore, the man bid farewell to his family and friends and went off on his expedition. He had prayed for a smooth journey, which God blessed him with.

After a few days he reached at ‘Every man’s friend’s house. He was greeted and welcomed without pomp compared to the ceremony given to just about anybody back home upon an arrival. ‘Every man’s friend’ handed him a book of rules that he was to abide by and then he left. ‘Every man’s friend’ had told him that if he followed these rules, he could live a trouble free life. The villager took the book graciously and immediately his eyes started to wander about in all directions studying the order and neatness of the place. The house was impeccably clean; things in neat order. Just then another member of the house nudged the villager and quietly reminded him to pick up his bag that he had thrown in a corner of the house. He obliged and immediately picked up his bag. The villager stood for a while hoping someone would show him his room or any other accommodation but no one helped him. He wasn’t offered any food or drink either. He started to think about his family in the village down on the plains far away. Tears swelled in his eyes as he remembered how his mother refused to eat without him. He reminisced how he dismissed his meals for being plain and not great; how he would get up and leave in anger while his hungry mother would rush the plate after him begging him to eat. He now started to see miniscule things he had otherwise overlooked back home. He missed his family more than ever.

Time passed and he had become accustomed to sleeping on the floor and working hard for his food. His food was not great but good enough to fill his stomach. His bed was not soft but good enough for him to rest at night. The book he was given upon his arrival was like a sacred book which he followed dutifully. Every now or then when he failed to follow a rule of the house, he would be reprimanded. In moods of despair he would start comparing his freedom back home to the slavery at ‘Every man’s friend’s house. He hated toiling so hard. Yet he managed to pull himself through these challenges. Soon his hardships started to ease with time. He moved from the corridor to a room; and purchased things for himself. He started to explore with leisure the surroundings in and about the house. He took lots of pictures of flowers, trees, the manicured lawns, the birds, the crockery of the house, the other inhabitants of the house and so on. He wanted to cherish his memories.

A couple of years passed. The man had become accustomed to eating a stomach-full. Every now and then he chanced to see other villagers that had come with the hopes of changing their fate. He would join them and spend some time in their company. They would lament on the present day affairs and how things could have been better. And like him in the beginning, they would curse this new house for its inhospitality and cold yet solid rules. Soon the villager too started talking about ‘this’ house; he never considered it his own despite living in it for so long. He would recall his hardships. He too would rant about the house, its rules and how things were unfair. Despite these rants, he continued living in the house and hoped that his loved ones would join him there soon……
Some time passed and the villager then decided it was time to go back home. So he packed up his bags and returned home.
.....to be continued......
(photo from google.com)

2 comments:

  1. Ah I was really getting into that. I sure hope that you continue it soon...
    June 25, 2011 12:12 PM

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks Tammy. I have posted the second part and hope you enjoy it equally!!
    June 26, 2011 11:37 AM

    ReplyDelete