Monday, January 16, 2012

The Hurricane (The Flow Part II)

It was a quiet and beautiful day on the Island. The sun was shining bright and the birds were chirping melodiously on the beach. Fresh winds were blowing and the sea felt refreshing. The soul and its breeze were wandering on the beach, hand in hand, relishing the comfort and richness of the beauty of the island when suddenly, a fierce force of the wind hit them.

Their hands lost each other and the soul and its breeze were thrown away in different directions. The sky had turned grey, dark stormy clouds had encircled the island. The sun was no longer visible and it wasn't warm anymore. Somehow, the breeze managed to find the soul lying on the sands - worn out and drained. The breeze caught hold of the soul and pulled it away from the blustery winds.

The winds were harsh and the sky was twisting in ways unimaginable. It was turbulent, gusty like a torrent. Destruction had decided its course.

The soul and breeze tried to look for one safe place. A place to hide, a place to keep each other protected, but in vain. The sky was indefensible. They could do nothing. The breeze had realized that there was no choice and could see only one way to save the soul.

The breeze wrapped the soul in its arms and whispered into the soul's ears one last time. "Its time. Let go. You're not safe with me." It lifted the soul by chin, looked into the latter's eyes and said, "Don't worry. It's the right thing to do." The soul refused to let go and caught hold of the breeze. There was no life without a breath of fresh air - no soul without its breeze. But then, the sky had other plans. This time the winds were fiercer and sky even darker. Trees on the island began to fall. The birds were hiding behind the rocks with fear in their eyes. The storm was tearing the island apart. There was no way out. The soul had realized that there was only one way to shield the life of the island.

It was time.

The sky was still dark and the sun was refusing to come out. The trees were knocked down on the ground, there was no sign of the birds, there were remains of the rocks and branches of trees everywhere. The Island was in ruins. The soul was lying lifeless on a small piece of bark. It was stupefied, numb. A drop of tear was frozen in the corner of an eye. The soul gazed at the ruins of the island and wondered "Was it really the right thing to do?".

For all those who thought IT was the right thing to do.

3 comments:

  1. There could not have been a more beautiful, subtle and apt way to put it. I'm glad you're writing again.

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  2. Thank you. It really means a lot. Thank you. :)

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