Storyteller

Ahh...the agony of wait will never be over. He sensed the dampness in the air and felt relieved. His purity is being revived. Beyond sight, there lay the faces that once adored his presence. No day passed without words being exchanged and laughs shared. Every day had a story, a new story that none got bored of. The anticipation of a new story exhausted the night and the anxiety of the climax shortened the lumber.

Nights seemed short and days too long. The pulse of the rhythm played at night and that of the despair saw the day. It always started out with one which soon increased in count. Time lost track of its seconds and fun crept along for hours. Some bid goodbye and left for abodes of shelter while others shed their clothes to feel the breeze. Some filled their stomachs with food yet others protested their presence. But none could resist the temptation of the gold; they filled their treasures with all they could carry.

Friends and foes were made at gold. Hearts cried and lungs laughed, stomachs ached and eyes wet, they all happened and were out of bounds. Some had stories of bravery to share while others spit the venom of sex. Some ashamed of their ballads in daylight spoke with vigor at night. Some lay silent till questions where raised while others never waited for questions to be asked.

Some shared the happiness of oneness, while others believed in diversity under one roof. They all believed and that’s the difference. Their belief made a man believe in a life. They shared, grieved, laughed, ate, slept and worked in unison. He too felt that he earned a spot in comparison. He felt strong about the game that he decided to play the spectator. Players better and swifter than him stood in the center. The reserves too had strong contention. I picked the stands and cried my heart loud and then I landed the job of the coach.

All I had to do was to listen to the ideas and craft stories that all believed in. There came questions that seemed childish, but all answered with the poise of an adult. Everything was argued and none spared for we represented the world in scale. Time was made when not there and stories to share when they were short off. All wanted to play a part and score the goal. Some failed while others raced to glory.

Some outsiders ruined the party, while others added glamour. Some stole the players while others added to the squad. But they all had a part to play. There came the game, where he had to rule, and the game that rides tomorrow. He stayed focus, but failed, failed miserably. None cursed, but he assumes the blame, stayed aloof and broke the team. He sleeps over it every night and dresses it during day. He cries and stays mum when his team tries to talk.

No longer are stories spun and no longer are things shared. As if loss wasn’t enough, distance played the vamp. The team never played, parts met and decided to part. It still holds a question, is there a story still left to be told?