Santa

in The Ink Well5 days ago

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microphone-2130806_1280.jpg

Santa is a captivating man. His voice not only echoed like a gong but also like a church bell. Whenever he talks, every word uttered from his mouth is heard clearly, and the intonation in his voice rises like Jazz and falls like a lullaby only if he wants.

He had done so many practices ahead of today, but no matter how long a day or an event shall be, as the time ticks from seconds to minutes and followed by hours, days go by, the prompt date will eventually come.

“Santa, do not let fear envelop you as today is the day that you shall roar like a lion,” a feminine voice said in a faint sound on his phone.

“ Thanks for that,” he replied firmly before they had other discussions and ended the call.

Although Santa sounded like the best man for the job, the doubt given to the man behind the mirror was his problem, “ himself”.

As he dropped the call, a cold feeling erupted from inside him which led to this headache that came in an impromptu manner.

This made him remember his journey and immediately regretted enrolling for “The Voice”, a reality show where each participant will make use of their voice using so many illustrations to showcase what suits them. Some will sing music, some will chant poetry, some will tell jokes, and so many other actions to take so far it required sharing a voice.

“The Voice” is a program where different participants will be selected, and one in particular will be used for different categories of jingles all over the country.

Since Santa graduated from the University of the Clauses, he has decided to continue with the views he loves showcasing. He knew that it meant more, and it is not about him but about the change, one change like that that he knew nothing about.

Santa was the typical example of the voice of the people because he was an orphan who lived with his uncle's family at a very tender age. His uncle was a man who never believed in purpose and was rigid in the way he was brought up.

“A child’s future has nothing to do with the child but the parents or guidance,” he will always say, tapping Santa on his forehead whenever he tries to object to his uncle's views.
He has made sure Santa does all he wants and has a businessman, he stood to the last to say that Santa must be a graduate of business administration.

Santa had no choice and did that, but he never forgot his voice, the one he used in rapping with his niggars when he was a teen, the one he used in singing when he was an adolescent, and the one he used in chanting poetry as an adult which was bass-like in nature.

“But I am comfortable,” he lamented, knowing he has one behavior to see things to the end when he does it.

“What am I even thinking when I enroll for the program?” He soliloquizes before taking a tablet of aspirin to ease his headache.

Santa is a successful business administrator in a firm that pays well but his dreams won't let him be. He had the same dream over the night where he saw himself counseling or standing before millions of people, but only to wake up to see he was beside his fiancée, Bianca, in his apartment, and she patted him and said, “ Is it the same dream again?”

Santa decided to go there against all odds which is the first step on his journey.

He journeyed there and met himself in this hall, which was crowded, yet it felt silent to Santa. His name tag trembled on his chest as he stood backstage at “The Voice” auditions. Something looked like deja vu from his perspective. Though the moment looked familiar, fear still wrapped tightly around his heart.

His hands were cold, and his thoughts raced. He was planning to chant the poem “ My Voice” but so many things came to his mind.

“ What if my voice fails me?

What if I forget the lines and verses?” He asked himself and almost walked away.

But then he remembered the long nights of practice, the verse he crammed, and digested when no one was listening, and the reason he came here, to be heard.

“Next contestant Anto Santa,” the coordinator called.

With shaky steps, Santa walked onto the stage.

The judges’ chairs faced away from him and the lights were very bright. His throat felt dry and for a second, his voice refused to come out.

Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and voiced like Santa Claus. “ Oh !, Oh!, Oh!” he coughed, but the fear did not disappear totally; his voice grew stronger with clarity.

He chants out his emotions, struggles, hopes, and courage. Halfway through the performance, one chair turned, then another, and by the time his poetry ended, the hall erupted in applause.

Santa stood frozen, tears filling his eyes. He had done it. Despite his fear, and confusion, he made it to the second stage of “The Voice”.

As he left the stage, his heart still raced, but now it beat with pride. His voice was heard loud and clear, though fear held him, but it did not stop him; it had only made his victory sweeter.

Even though his voice never made the one for the jingles, he knew he started from one place with a crowded audience.

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