Please read the previous chapter here
Name of the Author : Suparna De
Note about author : A silent observer. Avid reader and occasional blogger. Loves to take in the ‘single line’ quotes. Interested in fashion, photography and a bit of cycling.
Read more on her blog here
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Chapter 2
As the philosopher proceeded the journey to spread his preaching, he stopped by a beautiful town in a hilly terrain. The place was so serene that one could hear the birds chirping in the morning when the flashing tangerine-colored sun rose from the tip of the hill that faced this breathtakingly stoical town.
The beauty of the place compelled the philosopher to eventually put on his “thinker’s cap”. He started to envisage the splendor of the place. To him, the fact that he was welcomed to a place by the birds’ talks and not the honking noise that engulfs his city from dawn till dusk was unbelievable.
No my friend, you are mistaken! This is not the noise of the horns of vehicles that you see on roads.
This is more loud, penetrating and intrusive than the real honking-horns of vehicles. This is the cacophony of anguish, betrayal, hatred, intolerance, unrequited love and other feelings that encroaches people’s mind, body and soul.
The only place on earth which is devoid of this cacophony is Mother Nature’s lap and the philosopher felt like he has just fallen on the right place at the right moment. Nature never betrays, never hates anyone. There is a reason why it is called a Mother. Loves unconditionally and never expects a thing in return.
The philosopher opened his eyes, rolled his hands on the grass beneath him. The sun-kissed dew drops sparkled like golden crystals. He was about to rise from his supine position, he blinked at the noise of the click of a camera.
There was a lady sitting right adjacent to him. She was so intrigued by the garb of the philosopher that she could not let go of the moment. She captured him in her camera.
The philosopher looked perplexed initially. The lady said,” Sorry Sir, but this shot was far too beautiful to be missed.”
The perplexity in the eyes of the philosopher was turning to curiosity now. The lady gauged it and said,” Hi, I am Veronica and I love photography.”
The philosopher by this time rose up completely and was sitting on the grass in the valley, facing the hill that had thrown up the sun few minutes ago. He uttered, “Nice to meet you Veronica.” After they exchanged the initial introduction of each other, they started walking towards a tea shop nearby, chatting along the way.
Veronica unfolded her journey to this part of the world. She was a marketing professional who kept herself busy with her career finding no time for socializing let alone being in a relationship. She said she knew no nuances of a love relationship until it was time that her parents started finding alliances for her to get married.
After several rejections by and from Veronica, she decided to marry a guy whom she knew nothing about. They started dating each other, spent time together so that they get to know each other well.
Veronica didn’t smell anything fishy in the beginning, not a hint of lies in those words. The guy had falsely told Veronica that he had moved on from a failed relationship and that now he is looking to get settled in life. As time passed she started observing things that were not usual in a relationship. Little did she know that the guy was cheating on her? She finally came to know that the guy was simultaneously dating his so-called ex while he was engaged to Veronica.
Veronica was shattered by this revelation. She cried and cried and cried. The guy was not apologetic. So, Veronica decided not to marry that guy. She let go of him. For those who want to know what happened to the guy…he never called Veronica back.
The philosopher was moved a little by the story of her life. He said, “I am glad you are trying to keep yourself busy with productive work such as photography.”He asked her about her hobbies. She said I am passionate about penning down my thoughts when I am truly moved by something. She said she had written something but never published it because she thought she never could finish it. It was a letter which she had named, “A toast to Trust”.
She asked the philosopher, “Do you want to have a look at it?”
She took out a small paper from her pocket and handed it over to the philosopher.
The letter read like this:
Dear You,
Let’s call this letter a “toast to trust”.
Words, expressions, gestures and what not were served in a platter for you on a table just so that you know that I trust you.
Trust that I won’t be left alone ever.
Trust that you won’t be left alone ever.
Trust that we will never leave each other’s side.
Perhaps, the thing called trust is fragile and we are not always its best keepers.
From
Your trust- bearer.
After reading the letter, the philosopher said,” I will be taking your leave now. Can I keep this letter if you don’t mind?”
She answered, “Why not! If you could find someone who would complete the letter.”
Veronica extended her hand for a handshake and said,” Sir, I didn’t get your name.”
The philosopher smiled and said, “I am just another trust-bearer.”
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Please read the next chapter here
India writes together 