Bello and Brad walked hand in hand. One’s hair was black, and the other’s brown. They loved each other immensely. Bello was a man of twenty-four, well clad in a knight’s armor, which quite suited the scar on his face. Brad was only a boy of eighteen. And though he was young, he was almost as tall as Bello. But they walked hand in hand, their fingers intertwined, and planted kisses on each other’s lips all the way from the village to where they halted now.
“The fallen leaves fly in air, go to distant places; do they go to those places where people have the answers to my questions? Why do they not come back and tell me what they came to know from the people of the other world? The leaves die, yet they still stay on earth, beside their mothers, beside their lovers, around those who they’ve spent their entire lives with, then why don’t we? Why do we always go far from our near ones when we least want to? Millions of questions and no answers,” said Bello.
Brad sat beside the river, looking meticulously at it, how it flowed rapidly through the stones, how the fallen leaves flowed with it, how everything except them was moving, only they were still, still as a statue, and he had no idea what was happening and why it happened. The river flowed sometimes this way, sometimes the other, it knew it had to reach the sea, and it could follow any path to get what it wanted. Why was then he sitting still without getting what he wanted? The doubt. The doubt if he would ever reach where he wanted to. That would always keep them both a pace behind everyone else. Yet it was not forever destined to be this way.
He wondered that only after death do the leaves turn from yellow to red. Similarly even the rose of his life would turn from yellow to red only after he died. What was he talking about? He sometimes felt that he spoke utter nonsense, and sometimes he felt his senses themselves spoke to him, trying to show me the path, wrong or right he did not know, the only thing he knew was that he had to move on it. And he was ready to move on it, go where his heart took me, even if it lead him to death. And death is to come, it had already announced its coming. His only work was to stay patient and wait for it.