How lovingly she separated her lips to say, "I am so proud of you." He heard the echo of that
sweetest sentence in the whole universe. This one sentence was more precious than all the
medals and praise that he received in later life.
A wave of death struck his mind but he resisted forcefully with his remaining energy and was
again lost in thought. "I would surrender all my achievements for that kiss. My God, for an
instant gift with a piece of life, I would return headlong to kiss the wet eyes of my beloved, then
happily shall I die keeping my head in her lap. Then I will write a story in blood that will melt all
the hatred of the world; I will utter all the unutterable words that will finish the agony of earth;
and then I will offer, my God, that story to You which will perish Your indifference to man's
sorrows. When Your face will turn pale and sad, I will be overjoyed at the success of my story.
My words will drain Your eternal anger and the tears from Your eyes and will wipe off the filth
of the world. They will move Your heart and I will see You breaking the high towers of hatred
and revenge. I will tremble with joy to listen to the echo of Your words throughout the whole
universe. 'Gone are the days of malice'."
He saw the twilight of the dying sun coming through the half-opened window and came out of
his bed, but his lifeless legs refused to share the burden of his body. He fell on the floor but that
did not stop his desire to see an alive world. He started creeping towards that light. To link with
it, he exerted all the energies of his body.
At last, he reached the window and opened his eyes to view the end of the day. Dusk had
covered the whole brilliant sky, spreading the gravy shadows of night. Birds were returning to
their nests; the sun was lost in the deep universe. This take-over of night made him think about
the odd process of this universe. Every creation had to face an end. Now when he was observing
life at distance, an intense desire to be again in that sea of life made him dejected. The bird flying
alone in the dim light of sunset added to his suffering. At that sad moment, he saw one gloomy
face appearing swiftly towards him.
Many years ago, when he left his country in pursuit of dreams, only two eyes wept for him, and
now after so many years he was going to die looking at those eyes. He recalled that cloudy
evening when he said goodbye to her forever. At that moment of death, he came to know that
those weeping eyes had touched his soul, which was still roaming over there. The rest of his life
was soulless. All his ties with other bright faces were for his worth... the worth of being a
popular writer. But her sadness was from the core of her heart, she wept for him when rest of the
world was laughing at him, when he was a penniless, unknown, striving writer, stumbling in the
darkness of rejection. In the dazzling light of fame, he had forgotten her. But now, when he was
again surrounded by the darkness of death, she was there, standing behind his pillow, softly
moving her soft fingers through his rough, dry hair.
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