The First Sentence
"Alexander the Great had three wishes on his death bed, first, he wanted his doctors to carry his coffin to show the whole world that the best doctors can also be powerless. Second, he desired his grave path to be filled with precious stones and gems to make people believe that when a wealthy man dies, he doesn't take his wealth along with him. Third, he wanted his hands to be swinging out of his coffin while carrying him, to show that a man came empty-handed in this world and was returning the same way. Many believed in his absurdity because they deep down knew that it was more useful than the truth.
The interference
Profound wishes, you can call it or those that relate particularly to the materialistic world. But what about the things that wealth could never buy, the brain of a person, the power source of his thoughts, ideas, skyrocketing ambitions which a person never wholly applied while he was alive or never realized he had one. In the world of death, this all goes in vain. It either gets cremated or gets burned according to one's religion and never gets renewed. That makes the cemetery more valuable than we can ever imagine.
So, if you want something in life just go for it, don't wait for tomorrow, cause there is none. You want to be a writer, and write something based on your real experience where you met a girl who always visits your neighboring grandma in summer, and usually wears some striped, silky sundress, go for it instead of living in procrastination and believing it's too late to start out."
The Conflict
Deep in thoughts, in the middle of the documentary, the phone started ringing and I realized that my friend called me twice before I picked the phone. He was waiting downstairs for the usual evening tea in our famous Ramu tea stall, where the rich and the poor all gathered to have a sip of the magic herb, cheap but priceless. I dreamt of walking down the stairs in my short and flip flops, and suddenly I felt the tap on my shoulder. It was him wearing his helmet and asking me repeated questions of why I was not picking his call.
I tried to sidestep the topic and asked about his bike servicing, though I was interested in his answer the documentary words were still reflecting in the back of my mind. We went to the tea stall by the roadside, as usual, and witnessed a huge gathering of office workers, students, senior citizens in the stall. That is normal to me but what I saw there was not normal to me anymore, four people carrying a dead man to his cemetery.
My weekend freewrite for3-Part Weekend Freewrite - 5/30/2020 by @mariannewest, the link can be found here
The remaining parts of The Lost Painting and Father - My Patriot will be posted soon :)
Short stories writer, an art lover
from NorthEast, India.
created by @derangedvisions