A World Named Utopia : Excerpt
“You are running away from home?” the shabby man was laughing himself hoarse. The shock of hair he had on his head was fluttering in the light breeze of the morning. He wore something that looked like a cloak, over which there was a blanket, dilapidated from neglect. Half his face was covered in beard that had started to show signs of white. But it was the man’s eyes that attracted Hubi like magnets. They had something in them that showed signs of great depth.
“Don’t be angry, little brother” the man said with some seriousness, “You have done the right thing.”
His seriousness was short-lived for he started laughing again, his beard waving like a flag, “That will make two of us.”
Hubi did not like the man laughing at his expense like this. However, he did not show much remorse. He considered if he had done the right thing by telling this man that he had left home. But somehow, the purity of the beautiful morning had elevated him to a state that barred him from lying. So when the man had asked,” Where do you live, little brother? Where do you go?” he had just told him the truth. Besides, the way the man had uttered the words ’little brother’, somehow had made Hubi feel at home.
Or was it the dreamy beauty of the place? He was not sure what it was, but for the first time since he left home, he was completely sure that he had chosen wisely. Had he not left the compromising comforts of his known existence and ventured into the unknown, following nothing but exactly what he wanted every moment, he would have missed out on so much fun.
None of the experiences he had experienced after leaving his known world would have been possible if he had not been courageous enough to leave home. The sweet sun and the unadulterated morning breeze assured him that he was right in following himself. Hubi decided to ignore it even if the man made fun of him. There was no way he was leaving this place now. It was simply enchanting, liberating.
“Do you have any food with you, brother?”
His trance was broken by the man, smiling at him. He looked into the eyes of the man. There seemed to have no sign of derision in them but only genuine tenderness. Hubi nodded his head to mean no. He had not brought much, only that packet of biscuits that he exhausted the previous night.
“Where can I find food here? Are there any shops around?” Hubi asked the man. The man started laughing again. Why did the man laugh so much? Hubi kept to his word and did not pay much attention even if the man was making fun of him. Or maybe the man simply laughed more than what was considered normal. Good for him, Hubi thought, laughing is way better than grimacing.
“There, that way.” the man pointed towards the street that had led Hubi to this place, “Go straight, you’ll find a left turn. There you can find all you want.”
How did he miss noticing this turn earlier, while coming to the river? It must have been the darkness, or the fog, or simply that Hubi had been a little too preoccupied to notice. Hubi found a small marketplace of sorts after reaching there. It was way different from the river. The river had the gigantic tree, with its singular fragrance of endearment. The marketplace had the bustling crowd. Hubi liked both. From the market he bought a dozen bananas and two loaves of bread. This should sustain two men for two meals, he thought.
“So what’s your story Punin?” Hubi asked the man as he lay in the sun. It was afternoon and the riverbank had a few people going about their own ways. Hubi had learnt the name of the man. Punin sat up dragging his left leg and leaned against his sack that contained his things and also doubled for a pillow for him. Hubi had also learnt that Punin could not move much because of his malformed left leg. He had to carry a crutch wherever he went. In the morning, Punin had his legs wrapped up in his cloak and his blanket and his crutch was on the opposite side of the tree-trunk. That is why Hubi had failed to notice these at first.
Punin cleared his throat and thanked him for the eleventh time for the food Hubi had given him. “What’s my story? My story is not as interesting as yours, little brother.” the man said gently. At most times Punin had a smile on his face from under his beard. At other times he was bursting his lungs out, laughing. Not for one moment since he met this man did Hubi find him grim in face.
“Everybody has a story and all are interesting in their own ways” Hubi said, “But if you do not want to tell yours, that’s okay.”
“Who knows who I am?” the man breathed out. Then showing his malformed left leg he said, “This does not let me move much, but I have seen a few places. Have heard of a small village named Ujad? It’s in Neramo.”
Hubi nodded his head. He had not heard of the village, but he definitely knew about Neramo. Neramo was a state in the extreme southern part of Utopia.
Punin said, “I was born in Ujad. And it’s a long story how I happen to be here today.”
Hubi was interested. How did he end up in Kaskat, which was in the north-east corner of his land? It seemed mysterious. “Tell me how you end up here then.” he asked the man.
“When I was about fourteen, I lost both my parents on a single day and I became all alone. My uncle, who used to live with us in our house, chased me away as if I was a mad dog the very next day. Well he never liked me for some reason. Then I travelled and travelled and reached here.” Punin smiled.
Hubi noticed that there was no sign of a complaint in the way he said this. How could a man in his circumstances seem so happy? It defied all logic. Or so Hubi felt.
Punin continued, “Sometimes I travelled on foot and sometimes I hitchhiked. But Mostly I had to walk. I just wanted to see our land and soak in its aroma.”
“How did you walk all this way?” Hubi was visibly astonished. A part in him told him that this man must be lying. That his story was too fantastic to be true. But then the eyes of the man assured him. Had he ever seen more truthful eyes in a man ever? Hubi wanted to believe him. He somehow felt an almost instant bond with this man.
********************************
It was getting colder presently as the sun was to complete its westward journey for the day. Hubi had to put on his yellow wind-cheater again. Punin was back in his post, leaning against the tree, singing aloud. This man had something in his voice. He sang one song after the other, some complete some a few verses. The music was enthralling. It mingled well with the enchantment of the mysterious beauty of the riverbank. Hubi watched the small boats sailing by. The final rays of the sun kissed their hoods and gave them a crimson hue. The mist was settling in again along with the shivering cold.
They had already completed their dinner, comprising the bananas and bread from the morning. It was around thirty minutes past nine. Punin was playing a flute that he had taken out of his greyish sack. This man was full of surprises, so Hubi felt. Who knows what else does he have inside that sack of him? The music, which his flute made, was even better than his songs, Hubi thought. The misty River seemed to reverberate with the tune. There was one all-pervading canvas of a starry sky over their heads. The sound of the river gurgling by slowly, with the moonbeams playing on it added to the music. This must be divine, Hubi was sure.
Suddenly the flute fell silent. Hubi too was leaning now against the tree, looking at the stars. The sudden silence was broken only by the hushed tones of the river and the rustling of leaves. It seemed to Hubi that he was being taken on an inexplicable journey. The music had been the stairway to a place of higher identity and now the silence was describing the identity itself. It made him forget even about the stiff cold. As if his body was lying on the ground, while his spirit was dancing like a lunatic to the tunes of silence!
Hubi did not know how long he had been in this state of being. He looked at his watch and then at Punin. It was past eleven! How did time fly so fast, he did not know. It seemed to be just a blink of an eye, but he was contented. He had enjoyed it to the fullest.
Punin looked at him in the subdued light and said in a hushed tone,” Can you hear the fairies bathing in the river? Look, there.” he pointed to a part of the riverbank. “They come here every day, the beings of light. Don’t talk aloud or look at them directly. They might be afraid and leave.”
This was too much to believe for Hubi, even at that time and at that place. He strained his eyes suspiciously to look closely at the place Punin had mentioned. Nothing he could find there except for the mist veiling the river. However, his heart wanted to believe that anything was possible at such a curious place. May be the mist concealed the fairies from his view. Or did they become afraid and leave as he had looked at them directly, with eyes of suspicion? He was not sure anymore, but decided not to doubt the fairies anymore. If Punin believed that they came down, good for him!
You can get the book for $0.99 Just for A Few Days (Offer starts 21st March, 2014)...Make sure to Grab Your Copy...Do Not miss out!
Read more: http://www.amazon.com/Subhajit-Gangul...
http://subhajitgangulyauthor.wordpres...
A World Named Utopia: Will He Be Able to Save Himself and His Utopia?
“Don’t be angry, little brother” the man said with some seriousness, “You have done the right thing.”
His seriousness was short-lived for he started laughing again, his beard waving like a flag, “That will make two of us.”
Hubi did not like the man laughing at his expense like this. However, he did not show much remorse. He considered if he had done the right thing by telling this man that he had left home. But somehow, the purity of the beautiful morning had elevated him to a state that barred him from lying. So when the man had asked,” Where do you live, little brother? Where do you go?” he had just told him the truth. Besides, the way the man had uttered the words ’little brother’, somehow had made Hubi feel at home.
Or was it the dreamy beauty of the place? He was not sure what it was, but for the first time since he left home, he was completely sure that he had chosen wisely. Had he not left the compromising comforts of his known existence and ventured into the unknown, following nothing but exactly what he wanted every moment, he would have missed out on so much fun.
None of the experiences he had experienced after leaving his known world would have been possible if he had not been courageous enough to leave home. The sweet sun and the unadulterated morning breeze assured him that he was right in following himself. Hubi decided to ignore it even if the man made fun of him. There was no way he was leaving this place now. It was simply enchanting, liberating.
“Do you have any food with you, brother?”
His trance was broken by the man, smiling at him. He looked into the eyes of the man. There seemed to have no sign of derision in them but only genuine tenderness. Hubi nodded his head to mean no. He had not brought much, only that packet of biscuits that he exhausted the previous night.
“Where can I find food here? Are there any shops around?” Hubi asked the man. The man started laughing again. Why did the man laugh so much? Hubi kept to his word and did not pay much attention even if the man was making fun of him. Or maybe the man simply laughed more than what was considered normal. Good for him, Hubi thought, laughing is way better than grimacing.
“There, that way.” the man pointed towards the street that had led Hubi to this place, “Go straight, you’ll find a left turn. There you can find all you want.”
How did he miss noticing this turn earlier, while coming to the river? It must have been the darkness, or the fog, or simply that Hubi had been a little too preoccupied to notice. Hubi found a small marketplace of sorts after reaching there. It was way different from the river. The river had the gigantic tree, with its singular fragrance of endearment. The marketplace had the bustling crowd. Hubi liked both. From the market he bought a dozen bananas and two loaves of bread. This should sustain two men for two meals, he thought.
“So what’s your story Punin?” Hubi asked the man as he lay in the sun. It was afternoon and the riverbank had a few people going about their own ways. Hubi had learnt the name of the man. Punin sat up dragging his left leg and leaned against his sack that contained his things and also doubled for a pillow for him. Hubi had also learnt that Punin could not move much because of his malformed left leg. He had to carry a crutch wherever he went. In the morning, Punin had his legs wrapped up in his cloak and his blanket and his crutch was on the opposite side of the tree-trunk. That is why Hubi had failed to notice these at first.
Punin cleared his throat and thanked him for the eleventh time for the food Hubi had given him. “What’s my story? My story is not as interesting as yours, little brother.” the man said gently. At most times Punin had a smile on his face from under his beard. At other times he was bursting his lungs out, laughing. Not for one moment since he met this man did Hubi find him grim in face.
“Everybody has a story and all are interesting in their own ways” Hubi said, “But if you do not want to tell yours, that’s okay.”
“Who knows who I am?” the man breathed out. Then showing his malformed left leg he said, “This does not let me move much, but I have seen a few places. Have heard of a small village named Ujad? It’s in Neramo.”
Hubi nodded his head. He had not heard of the village, but he definitely knew about Neramo. Neramo was a state in the extreme southern part of Utopia.
Punin said, “I was born in Ujad. And it’s a long story how I happen to be here today.”
Hubi was interested. How did he end up in Kaskat, which was in the north-east corner of his land? It seemed mysterious. “Tell me how you end up here then.” he asked the man.
“When I was about fourteen, I lost both my parents on a single day and I became all alone. My uncle, who used to live with us in our house, chased me away as if I was a mad dog the very next day. Well he never liked me for some reason. Then I travelled and travelled and reached here.” Punin smiled.
Hubi noticed that there was no sign of a complaint in the way he said this. How could a man in his circumstances seem so happy? It defied all logic. Or so Hubi felt.
Punin continued, “Sometimes I travelled on foot and sometimes I hitchhiked. But Mostly I had to walk. I just wanted to see our land and soak in its aroma.”
“How did you walk all this way?” Hubi was visibly astonished. A part in him told him that this man must be lying. That his story was too fantastic to be true. But then the eyes of the man assured him. Had he ever seen more truthful eyes in a man ever? Hubi wanted to believe him. He somehow felt an almost instant bond with this man.
********************************
It was getting colder presently as the sun was to complete its westward journey for the day. Hubi had to put on his yellow wind-cheater again. Punin was back in his post, leaning against the tree, singing aloud. This man had something in his voice. He sang one song after the other, some complete some a few verses. The music was enthralling. It mingled well with the enchantment of the mysterious beauty of the riverbank. Hubi watched the small boats sailing by. The final rays of the sun kissed their hoods and gave them a crimson hue. The mist was settling in again along with the shivering cold.
They had already completed their dinner, comprising the bananas and bread from the morning. It was around thirty minutes past nine. Punin was playing a flute that he had taken out of his greyish sack. This man was full of surprises, so Hubi felt. Who knows what else does he have inside that sack of him? The music, which his flute made, was even better than his songs, Hubi thought. The misty River seemed to reverberate with the tune. There was one all-pervading canvas of a starry sky over their heads. The sound of the river gurgling by slowly, with the moonbeams playing on it added to the music. This must be divine, Hubi was sure.
Suddenly the flute fell silent. Hubi too was leaning now against the tree, looking at the stars. The sudden silence was broken only by the hushed tones of the river and the rustling of leaves. It seemed to Hubi that he was being taken on an inexplicable journey. The music had been the stairway to a place of higher identity and now the silence was describing the identity itself. It made him forget even about the stiff cold. As if his body was lying on the ground, while his spirit was dancing like a lunatic to the tunes of silence!
Hubi did not know how long he had been in this state of being. He looked at his watch and then at Punin. It was past eleven! How did time fly so fast, he did not know. It seemed to be just a blink of an eye, but he was contented. He had enjoyed it to the fullest.
Punin looked at him in the subdued light and said in a hushed tone,” Can you hear the fairies bathing in the river? Look, there.” he pointed to a part of the riverbank. “They come here every day, the beings of light. Don’t talk aloud or look at them directly. They might be afraid and leave.”
This was too much to believe for Hubi, even at that time and at that place. He strained his eyes suspiciously to look closely at the place Punin had mentioned. Nothing he could find there except for the mist veiling the river. However, his heart wanted to believe that anything was possible at such a curious place. May be the mist concealed the fairies from his view. Or did they become afraid and leave as he had looked at them directly, with eyes of suspicion? He was not sure anymore, but decided not to doubt the fairies anymore. If Punin believed that they came down, good for him!
You can get the book for $0.99 Just for A Few Days (Offer starts 21st March, 2014)...Make sure to Grab Your Copy...Do Not miss out!
Read more: http://www.amazon.com/Subhajit-Gangul...
http://subhajitgangulyauthor.wordpres...
A World Named Utopia: Will He Be Able to Save Himself and His Utopia?
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