Skip to main content

The French Man with The German Book

It often happens that we come across strange strangers in our lives.
Some; we forget that very instance and some, we remember forever.
And so it was for Steve as he was walking down in one of the alleys of Sicily one day. Steve had been from France but had shifted to Sicily after his service in the War.

So as he was walking down the alley, he was abruptly approached by an old man. It seemed as if the old man was left with only one desire, and that was to offer Steve, a book. Steve wanted to know why he wanted to give him the book. But he didn't, as he figured that the old man couldn't speak.
"So his hesitation was changed to a guarantee and an appreciation to the old man." ~⚡️
And hence, the old man continued walking as if they had never met. As an individual, would you forget such a stranger? Or be even more curious? I'll leave you all in that dilemma because that answer depends totally on yourself. Steve, on the other hand, didn't open the book till he reached his home.
When he reached home, he opened the last page of the book. (Similar to most of us?) The script was in German. How life troubled Steve, right? A French man with a German book!
Steve was curious to find out what was written in that book. The thing was, it only had thirty pages. Barely a book, right? Steve was motivated to learn German.



Only because a random stranger approaches you with a book in a foreign language, you'd probably approach a translator right? But Steve didn't. He genuinely wanted to learn German only because he wanted to read that specific book.

But as weeks passed, he could see that it was taking a lot of time, and he,(unfortunately), gave up.

Gradually, Steve lost the will to be able to read German on his own. The most intriguing thing about the book was that it had a blank white cover. Could it get more interesting?
While he was returning from the market one day, he was attacked by a robber. The robber threatened to kill him if he didn't offer money or things of great value.
Steve had kept the book close to himself, in person for some reason. He also had 200$ in his wallet. He had to give it all. But the interesting thing was that the person hesitated to give away the book, but not his money. The thief, being a thief, shot him and ran away with valuables. 
 So, why the book and not the 200$? Why hesitate over something that's not even his personal belonging? Can we relate this to our lives? Haven't we also hesitated over some things that don't really belong to us? But we do hesitate. Why?
Because, according to us whatever is important, is generally less important, if compared to the things, other people refer to as, important.   
See, people offer some useful/useless insights into our life. Whether we want them to influence our life or not, they affect us. People provide us with beautiful insights, whether useful or useless. That is why there is something deceptive about beauty always.⚡️
Just because of the fact that Steve couldn't read German made him curious about the book and thus, he hesitated.
"Curiosity is the infection of an ardent desire to know more. "~⚡️
What was written in the book? Nobody can say. Neither the old man who gave the book, not the robber, because he ran away with it, and Steve could, if he hadn't given up. Some tales just don't have any clear conclusions. But those tales have a great message behind it. And as for this tale :
 "Requirement of will to be able can only be possible if there is a passion to succeed and emerge from the world." ~⚡️
So the main concern; is how far can you allow people to affect or influence your lives? Because I can assure you that people will. Will you be a Steve? Or will you be yourself?


By :    Shaon Bandopadhyay
a.k.a :⚡️

P.S. All my writings will be oblivious one day. But I have my fellow readers to ensure that my writings live longer than me.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Solidarity or Solitary?

on the 10th day, you do look back,  and you see traces of your steps following you on that same muddy trail, and you have returned to that place, you aren't shocked seeing them, thinking they are not yours, you see your footprint, carved in the mud, its of a shoe, and you are wearing flip-flops now. you look down at your feet, knowing you have fresh footprints you are about to leave ahead, which will not match the previous ones, and you think, anyone else who witnesses these two sets of footprints, if they get as far in the mud as yourself, will not know they are the same person's. you realise nobody will know, nobody will know of those 10 days, but you do not stop realising there,  you go further to think that nobody might even care to differentiate. where you stand now, you see you are not far from that cliff, which you had seen 10 days before,  you are exactly where you left your journey, you are exactly where you turned back. somehow this time, you aren't as prepared...

bitterness of lillies.

  if patience against malice has a name, let it not be muttered, for all the saints would know better to weep, than to criticise first, let the bitterness of lillies be shrunk to fit into a palm, for anger cannot be grasped longer for than when it is yearned,  let these ill desires be named and those names be ruined,  for this will be a place constructed not in time, but by time, and hidden forms of deep caves would be found in reflections, not of mirrors and rivers,  but in words, all soft and muttered, and in the loud ones too.  so heave and leave, for the bitterness of lillies shall always remain pure,  and the quicker the wickedly warms you up, the better you'd be played against your desires.  ~ sb