Words and The Fable

...and, so the foolish shepherd continued to forge fun out of his ability to pretend. Everybody was outraged to the limit : he amused himself with the thought. He remembered, now, the first time the idea hit him on the face. Upto that point life was pretty dull.





Dullness, he thought, emanates from being nobody special : having no special ability : not being able to stand afar from the throng. Dullness is some attribute of the mass, the group, the crowd that he didn't understand.





With nothing happening around, he even prefered a tiger or two to come and stir the jar. And the idea that struck him one dead pale afternoon was : If even the most cruel realities of death and danger have decided to steer clear of this village, why not create realities of our own?

Why do we have to toil in this adverse world? Waiting for the infrequent change of destiny?

Then as we all know from the famous fable, he started his life of pretense : he turned his life itself into a storybook where there are twists in the tale on every second pages. Ordinary people : afraid : awestruck : spellbound. A lunar glean on their faces.

People were agitated and one day the tiger attacked the village. Nobody paid any heed to the futile screams of the shepherd.

His helplessness muffled his words.

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What do I want to write, here? My intention was to rewrite the fable in my own way. But, it's become really difficult to separate myself from him anymore.

My helplessness has muffled my words.

I have journeyed far and long. Into realms of deepest imagination. But, faced with a hard reality, I've always tried to say : See, I've been acting all along. I forgot to tell you, then : made a mistake. But, now I'm not pretending. I'm telling you I'm not.This words are true, true, true...

I called up a friend to share the idea of this post.

He said : It's you, right?

I said : I, yes.

He mourned : I've known you only through your words!

Words, more words and still others.

Where do you hide from them?