“From many pieces of earth do they make themselves strong” Grandma used to say. These words are imprinted inside my head in such a stirring way that I cannot get over it. Her stories still beat in my heart. Power, heroism, honor is what she used to start with. Well, these are just fake, heroes of my childhood; I’d laugh at it now. Those who build up my memories are just fictional. Few moments escaped and then came a beep from the smartphone which lay stationary beside me. My eyes dropped at it and I saw a text which I never expected in years. It was from a friend far wiser from me and far able than myself. Would not I feel proud of receiving something from him? In rapid gestures did I picked the mobile and swiped the screen to unlock. As the eyes read the message, a grin formed on my lips. An invitation, a meeting, a request to talk to me. I felt it as a dream though it was all real. Sean Patrick had invited for dinner and I was gladly ready for it.
The sun did cheat me in slipping down so fast and it was shortly darkness which loomed across the sky. Amidst the many rumbling engines of different vehicles, my tiny car was slow to move. I halted, opened the metal door, stood up, banged the door back and read the restaurant name. The white painted wooden doors opened in front of me with a warm welcome. I pushed myself inside a room filled with aromas and the clatter of spoons against plate and glass against glass. There were people who reflected comfort and the background ambiance music was a perfect fit. “How many guests are with you Sir?” In a sudden, my thoughts shattered by this question. I turned left where the receptionist awaited an answer. “Uh…I have been invited by someone else” came my reply and he nodded back. I searched for Sean and there, to the corner of the room, his face shining by the candle light, I saw him. On arriving upon, he presented his palm for a hand shake. “How are you my friend?” he asked with the same polite tone my ears still remember. “I am same as was five years back. What about you?” I asked. “You stole my words.” he smiled. “So, how come you thought of seeing me, especially me?” I pointed my fingers at my face. “Well, it’s time I say goodbye to this city. I have searched for myself a job suitable for me.” He spoke with eyes downcast, “I thought to meet my loyal friends, relive the feeling of university”. I was shocked and said, “I am struck with what you have said but it is my prayers for you to prosper” I had no proper answer and I was confused, but still continued, “So, which city is this where you are shifting to?”, “Dortmund my friend, it is a beautiful place” he answered. “And what sort of job have you got?” I asked and he replied, “It is of an editor for the press”, “Oh I see, would certainly give a good salary.” I spoke, with this time my eyes at the table. “Yes, they are paying me enough, but I do not care for riches, it is my passion which I want to follow” at last did he raise his eyelids, “What about you? Have you got any plans for future?” he asked. At this, I was lost. I had no words nor could I think of any. I just moved my hands here and there as I looked for an answer. “Ah! I really have no idea. I sometimes want to excel in IT but then get fed up of it. I then desire to invent something, to create. Grandma used to tell me of a story in which a person created something marvelous, I want to create that but this dies out because it is just a story” I burst forth and furrowed my brows. Dinner was served and there was silence. At saying goodbye, Sean said, “Remember, stories have a foundation in the background, they are made because of some reason. Also, follow what you seek for you surely get it someday or the other. Goodbye and good night.” He left.
I stood there, outside the restaurant, completely expressionless. I pushed my house’s door and glided to the store room, pulled the dust covered box from under the ancestral cupboard, grabbed Grandma’s book of tales and isolated myself in my room. I thumped the heavy mass of pages on the study table and lit the lamp light beside. Shortly, my hands gained pace and wrote down every detail I required. “Now let’s see what I have got” I muttered. The story asked to make a potion, a potion which gave powers to one’s self to create whatever one wants. However, it was all possible if this potion was not impossible. I needed oak wood and black roses. Oak wood would be available at any timber shop. It was black roses which were far away. No time was to be wasted and my legs dashed to the laptop through which I researched on these black roses. “Halfeti district it is” I finally got the location though this area lay in the country called Turkey. The only thing which caused hindrance was the need to travel to access black roses. “If this potion is fake then my money would be wasted, but if not, then life could take a veer turn.” With less certainty my brain recalled Sean’s words. Stories have a foundation, a background and I could hear my heart saying “Go on” and I had to.
It truly was a beautiful city. The eyes could not stop finding new things and it felt like my head had been emptied and refreshed. I knew not the language but I could feel the energy of the city. I felt my soul had found peace. Sauntering on the paved, bumpy streets, not a single person looked distressed or unhappy. There was joy, liveliness and brotherhood. The clouds above proved that I was inside a magnificent painting while the cool breeze constantly blew my hair. It was a moment where I cared not for the future and only examined how much praise-deserving mother earth really is. The hotel I booked was not five star but still, it was comfy and a serene place.
Morning struck its presence with a bright yellow sunlight and my body was, after so many years, enthusiastic to do something. It was 10 am and I started my journey to the village where these roses grew. This place was not accessible by vehicle. I walked and walked until the feet beneath started to burn. When I reached, I both ached and laughed. “Take a deep breath” I sang softly in the heart and moved the hollow woods to step inside. The hens cocked not frequently and I thanked for that. A slight knock from my fingers was enough and a pink faced, healthy Turk popped in front. He spoke something in his native and I stood dumb faced. “English, please” I insisted but my host was not familiar with it so I pulled out the picture of the roses from my pockets and let him take a glance. He smiled, thought, smiled again but went plain of expression. He reflected a total dismay and I thought, “Everything is over” but not yet. Giving up is far worse. I pleaded and pleaded while the farmer welcomed me inside. The room was small and all over spread eggs and milk, but no, there was no time to look around and I opened a translator and asked the man to speak. He did, for he was a nice person. I read back what the translation was in English and it was disappointing. It read: “These are not given to visitors, they are not sold.” I spoke my answer on the translator and made him read in Turkish, “Please, I will give you the money you need. I want them for a special purpose.” And he replied, “It is illegal to buy and travel with them”, “I won’t give the slightest hint to anyone. Believe me” I spoke. “How come I believe in a person I met an hour ago?” he asked and I was annoyed. “Sir, you are a brother to me. You will not get caught. I will pay 300 dollars for these” I spoke with making myself as persuasive as I could. “500, my price” he said. I raised a brow and thought “That was quick”.
In instance were the dark crimson colored roses in my hands and it was surely an awe-inspiring sight. I covered them in tissue paper, then in a leather cloth with another cover of denim stripes and finally, they went inside a khaki bag. Silently, I went back to the hotel. Everyone I felt were staring me, all faces seemed curious and dangerous. Or was it my psychological thinking? My fingers twisted to collapse the metals together and locked the door. “Rush and pack your bags. Fly home, fly home” I was tingling all over and went to bed early.
“Open the door or we will break it!” a loud roar from outside woke me up. It was day. With saliva trailing down and hair a complete mess, I opened the door. “Do not move” the pistol directly towards me, a man twice taller than me, stood holding it. Anger was sure to be spotted in his eyes and the rest of the accompanying police men went inside the room. “Check each and everything sparing no area” the pistol man, for me probably, thundered. I saw one of them handed the khaki bag in which the black roses were hidden. Eyes widened, the body turned hot and the throat choked. Life did took a veer turn, but in the opposite direction.
I sat, terrified, in the prosecution room. Inspections started. They checked my details and asked, “What on earth are you doing?” and I spoke, “Look, I have no wrong intent~” I was interrupted. “Answer the question” the officer spoke gritting his teeth. “I am inventing something for which I need those roses”, “What exactly?” he asked. “A potion. It will give me powers from which I will help people” I replied and he erupted in a tremendous laughter. “Boy, stop watching fiction movies” he said. “It is not movies, it is reality. Let me prove” I yelled, though I myself was uncertain. “Look boy, you can be sentenced jail if you do these silly actions. We will give you freedom when you pay the fine, but I insist, go home and stop watching folk tales” he said, “There is a serious damage to your brain”. I thought for a moment ignoring his words. “Pay the fine” I recalled.
I paid the fine and was back out. A thousand questions appeared and disappeared. Has things ended? Am I really stupid? Can I achieve anything in life? With this, I opened the hotel room’s door to pick my luggage and leave. However, what lay in front stopped everything. “Who exactly could have put those? And I grabbed the black roses with a smile which could not vanish. I thought, “The farmer maybe.” Actually, it really didn’t matter who put them and I raced back home. Oak wood was easy to obtain. It was time for action. “Boil the ingredients” the recipe required and so I did. After massive bubbling, it produced a pungent smell which was simultaneously awful. The color changed gradually. From transparent it transformed to a violet tint. Bubbling stopped and the sound of the atomic collision halted. “Is it ready?” This question became sure when nothing happened even after waiting for fifteen exciting minutes. The trembling hands of mine caught hold of a glass and I poured the mixture in it. Trepidation covered me all over and I hit myself against a chair and thought for a moment. Even the air conditioner did not control my temperature. I thought of dying but then I thought what if nothing happened at all. Ignoring everything, I gulped. It was sour yet sweet as well, but left a thick salty layer on my throat. A shudder, a shiver, a shudder again and my brain squeezed. The fingers, out of my control, scratched the head and tried to break open the flesh only to stop the squeezing. I felt I was draining. The brain was only attacked. The eyes became difficult to remain opened and I had to shut them. “Why! Why did I do this?” I screamed. It felt an end, as if things had finished. “I really am dumb” was what I thought. I hated Sean, hated Grandma’s book. Suddenly, my legs gave up and threw me on the floor. I permitted the tears to drop. I sobbed to such an extent that no water was left to drop from the eyes. I felt better. The squeezing stopped and relaxation came. I lay there, on the floor with eyes shut and breathed in and out. “I am alive” I thought. Time moved on and I decided to rise. The horrific potion stood on the table in front.
“Let’s try the magic” Eyelids dropped and all concentration diverted to the potion. “Sofa” I thought of and opened the eyes again to verify if this worked. What a dismay it was that no sofa appeared. I thought again and again but failed each time. At this, I was broken. I wasted huge amounts of money, went to the prosecution room, gave myself pain by drinking this and ending to nothing, simply nothing. I was a failure. The officer was right. “I should really stop acting childish and come to reality” I whispered. I rotated back to head to my room but my feet refused. My mouth dropped in utter amazement. “Are the eyes mocking?” In front, my eyes witnessed a sight I dreaded. Five beautiful sofa’s lay there. I could not handle myself and screamed in joy. “It worked! It worked!” I repeated until I was tired. I thought I could make a mansion for myself, a luxury car, expensive clothes and a lot more. I could think of anything which I desired. “Loot a bank” I chuckled. Thereafter, I tried various things like I thought, “A watch” and it appeared. Suddenly something clicked in my mind. “Why loot a bank? Why waste my powers on useless acts” and the mindset changed.
I drove my car towards the orphanage. The building was cracked, dirty and not pleasant at all. I met the administrator inside and we had a few exchange of questions. All the children stood in front of me outside as I closed my eyes and thought for a mansion for all those little children. When I heard awe’s from the crowd, I opened my eyes and looked behind. There stood a building which reflected finesse. I smiled. My life really changed after that as I started doing works which pleased the community like I thought of schools and hospitals and food, clothes and houses which appeared behind me and all the people did was to praise me and I admired that. Soon, I was interviewed by various journalists but one interviewer surprised me. It was Sean. “I am delighted to meet you Sir” he said and this made my goose bumps rise. I wasn’t a failure that was sure but all I lacked initially was trust in myself, I needed will power, I needed faith within. Well, I did possessed power, I became a hero and I was showered with honor.
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