The story revolves around a boy who looks for an inspiration to write, and why he needs to be inspired.
The night wasn’t dark, and the winds weren’t blowing past his gaze. Something about the trees resting silently , didn’t feel unusual to him. The people too walked in silent murmurs among themselves and he saw no beauty to mesmerise his thoughts, or force his hands to write.
There was nothing about this night that inspired Kartik. As a matter of fact , neither the day that followed nor the day that preceded the very day that Kartik sat himself to search for an inspiration, held any fire .
But why did he need to be inspired? It is not essential for every being to have an inspiration every day. To wake up , a being doesn’t always needs a sunny day, or to communicate not every being needs the incentive to smile. But today Kartik needed to be inspired. Today he needed to discover who he was, with the help of his words.
One may even ask , why of all days today? To them, Kartik may say in his stern serious voice, “I don’t know.”
Often people would perceive him as rude because of his stern and serious demeanour. But in his heart and mind he is not really a man of spoken words, rather he writes to express better and clearer.
To his parents, his voice is a significant characteristic which will give him an edge for interacting in his Dad’s business. The family business, where he is expected to excel and carry it to the greatest heights.
But he is just a boy , with just 21 years of experience of life. 4 , in which he learnt to walk and cry , the next 8 in which he learnt to interact with other human beings , another 5 adjusting to changes in his body and mind and the last final 4 in the crude realisation of what the world is.
But within the next few days his hand would be held by his father and be dragged to a multi-storied building, where he will learn to speak money and learn to live money. Where he would be expected to leave the matters of heart and joy outside the door. A place where his seat would govern and instruct tens and twenties of other Kartik’s who were forced to leave the matters of their hearts and joy outside the front door, and taught to speak and live money.
A place where broken dreams aren’t seen as the scars to a soul like they should be, but seen as numbers, earned by selling them off.
Kartik doesn’t want to live that life. He is a romantic, a free thinker. The matters of love and joy possess him. The thoughts in his mind often create kingdoms and castles for kings and queens , battling Vampires and killer clowns. The green of the goo dripping from the monster’s dirty lips or the red painted on the cheeks of two lovers on a bright winter day. His mind holds millions of worlds . None of which he is willing to let go of. But he might have to. It pinches his heart. But he might have to.
He graduated from college today. He had his heart set on becoming a writer , but had always kept family first. And it was his family’s only wish it seemed, that he would throw the dreamer in him , off the balcony and join the family business.
But as he stood on the balcony at night. Looking down at things that could invoke his thoughts. Hoping to write something and change the wish of his parents, he thought to himself, ‘maybe the dreamer had already jumped off.’
Without searching for him, Kartik receded inside to join his family at the dinner table. In terms with what they wanted. But missing a piece of himself.