Go on, O traveler!

How does it feel to be different? Having a different set of ideas, and standing by those ideas always? How does it feel to be considered as an outcast? Because you don’t know what you want to become in life?

He woke up asking such questions to himself each day. He likes to spend hours in his bathroom, with the tap on, listening to the drops hitting the water in the bucket. He is lost in his own thoughts most of the times, and fears that his thoughts will kill him someday. He loves being around people and discussing, but he finds peace in being alone in the company of some music or his thoughts alone. He wants to give up on everything and hit the road, with or without music, because what he believes is that world is music. There is constantly music around us, we fail to acknowledge it, probably because man has stopped imagining all the beautiful things, and has lost the ability to perceive things as they are, without judging them.

He says, Go on, O traveler. Life is a car and time its wheels. He wants to drive his car, but people often pull and push, hit and run, turn it around and kick it hard. No, that does not affect him, he is still on the driver’s seat. He loves colors, but somehow black and white appeals to him more than anything else. He wants to go back in time, and experience the nature at its best. Maybe be a nomad for a while. He believes that thoughts, thoughts alone are the best friend of man. There is high that the air gives us. He does not blame the world. He feels sad for the people, because most of them are in a bad trip and they don’t know how to enjoy that bad trip.

He has learned the art of enjoying the bad trip and converting it into a good one when he feels like. He hasn't perfected it, but his thoughts often give him confidence and hope. He likes being around his thoughts, he talks to his thoughts, argues, discuss and they together come up with a conclusion. He is just like everyone, with a different set of ideas and thoughts, and that makes him what he is. He falls in love, eats, dances, talks, meets people but everything with a different perspective in his mind. It’s his soul that talks, he chooses not to use his brains when it is not needed. He loves himself, and so he loves his life, he loves everything that God has created, because he believes everything is out there because it was meant to be there.

And that’s why, when he looks around, he says, ‘Go on. O traveler’. 

The words didn't betray her. That dream did.

It came as a feeling of joy. She couldn't believe it as happening right inside her mind. She could feel each word she was reading, and connecting so easily with the simple things the book talked about. It was as she was in conversation with the book. It was like the book asked her if she wanted it, and gave her exactly what she asked for. The plot shaped up just like she was imagining it to be. As she read one word and guessed the other in less than a second, she was right about each word that followed. It felt like both the book and she had some telepathic power. She seldom read books, given the fact how lazy reader she was. But every time she did, she knew where was the book heading, she exactly knew what will happen next. Maybe she picked me predictable books, but it gave her happiness. It gave her the feeling of a competition that she won almost all the time.

She would say, “I’m in love with you”, and before she completed her sentence, the book would say, “oh! How much do you love me? Every book she picked up, could talk to her, would become her best friend, or even a lover and could read her thoughts. She felt like she was the one writing the book. It never betrayed her.

Not until, one day she picked up a book, just out of desperation, she was missing someone to share her thoughts with for a long time. She hadn't got enough time to read, or rather complete a book. She had left several books half read, because there was no joy in predicting them, she thought. That day she picked up this book, and promised to herself that she will finish it, no matter what. She started to read from it, and soon the book gave her the joy she was longing for. As she reached the climax, she realized she was tired, and decided to sleep. As soon as she entered her dreams, she couldn't help dreaming about the book. Dreams in a way are so uncontrolled. It’s like you are in a state of trance, and you are tripping and falling, but not being able to control yourself. She dreamt about this book, taking an unexpected turn. She tried controlling it, but she just couldn't, so helpless she felt about everything. Next morning, she woke up quite early, out of desperation of completing the book. She started exactly from where she had left, it betrayed her. It did not went like she expected it to go. It went like it was in her dreams. She felt betrayed. She gave up. She gave up after two chapters.

Today, her friend gifted her the same book. Her friend was quite excited, and wanted her to finish it quickly so that they could discuss it. All these years she hadn't read any book, as she felt betrayed. Today as she opened this book again, as promised to her friend, she couldn't believe she was reading the same book. The joy she felt was similar, but it kept going as she was predicting it in her thoughts. It ended just like she expected it to. She was surprised. She had found that friend again. She had found her love again. It was the same old lover she had missed all this years, and she realized how wrong she was about it.

The words didn't betray her. That dream did.