Moral Short Story – Point of View
Photo credit: clarita from morguefile.com
The moment has come. He has lifted me in his hand, and no one may ever know what I meant. His other hand is putting a bundle into shredder and I could be next. I doubt if he will give me a glance. I have not lost hope but can destiny be changed.
The shredder makes a soft grinding sound and its shining blades whine for more. It would cut me like a cake, first tearing me off and then splitting me into bits. I would be reduced to pieces of junk.
You may think what a piece of paper can mean. You may even accuse me of boastfulness. I do not blame you but the confidence which comes when everything goes well. You succeed in life, have secure family and childhood and nothing can go wrong. A hallucination takes over and you feel that there is only good in this world. You also believe that everything that you have is here to stay.
You can continue to believe that till life hits you with a brick on head!
Anyways who will appreciate my effort; I am just a dirty wrinkled rag. Can words scribbled on me change my worth? On a dark lonely night, I was quietly slipped on his table. For weeks I was buried under heap of papers. I cautiously hid myself. It was suffocating and hot, but I survived that. I waited and prayed that he gives me a glance.
Today when he has picked me up, he is not in a mood to read. The pile of papers has grown and he wants to clear them all. Some go into the trash bin but most are being diverted towards the shredder. His hands are careless but firm; they hold me tight at an edge. His fingers rub my ink.
They are hard and coarse, but that was his past. He was not so careless at that time; he was not so certain about life. His world was small and his dreams were large. He struggled hard to make his mark.
Many years have passed and now he lives in his carefree world.
He has held me for some time and he has not moved. His gaze is fixed outside. Maybe he is enjoying view of the sea. He recently shifted to this sea facing room, another sign of his upward ascent. The sea makes a loud noise. It rhythmically rises and fall but he does not get the message. He has refused to see other tell-tale signs as well.
Men feel that fate changes out of the blue but they ignore destiny’s subtle hints. For him, even I was sent.
His eyes appear dazed. He is looking outside but his thoughts are somewhere else. May be he is thinking about his wife. Theirs had been an arranged marriage but she made his world. He was hardly an ideal husband but she was always there for him; without any bitterness, without any complaints. He never truly realised how much she meant to him.
Perhaps he is thinking about his kids. They were small just few days back, he can easily recall their first steps and today they are ready to face this world. He wanted to play with them, participate in their growing years but time just passed. Very soon he would take a long holiday.
He knows his family would not blame him for not being there. They would understand. Of course everything may not be rosy but they love him. At least he believes as much.
I do not see even a faint smile on his face. On looking carefully, I feel that his expressions are sombre. Maybe he is planning his next professional move. His business is at crossroads and he has to take some bold decisions soon.
His partner and his childhood friend has been his strength. They started all this together and he could trust him with his eyes closed. In fact he is more than family to him. Of course they had some differences but creative people always have that. He knows that his friend will support him. He hopes as much.
He might even be thinking about his health. He was so involved in this work that he neglected his well being. He recently got unwell, but it was a minor affair. It did keep him on bed for a few days but recently he has started gaining his strength. There is nothing to be worried about. All his tests have shown improvement and everything would soon be well.
He is a good man and everybody knows that. He has even helped many beyond his means. He has been fair even to his foes. He has also discharged his duties and his family will vouch for that. He is a self made man.
That is the reason I feel sad. I feel sad because this is an unfair world. Kind men meet brutal fates. I may not change anything but I wish to prepare him for what is to come. I pray that it does not so happen that one day there is no ground beneath his feet.
Cool sea breeze has entered the room and I think he is back from his dreams. His eyes are looking towards me and his fingers move on my surface. The shredder is still making a whining sound. I want to scream but I cannot utter a word or move; I only carry a message. It is he who has to read it. If I fail, he will have no one else to blame.
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