When Silence Speaks...

In the far end of the world, on the land stretched with endless deserts, walks an old merchant, Mejhul, the nameless, the faceless.   The name had fallen on him, as he was an orphan raised on the streets of different cities, growing up along the caravans of traders. And eventually he had come to like his name, for he was unknown, moving from one new place to another, no home to return to, no one that he belonged to. A nomad, a wanderer, he travels with his camel, Arkadash, who was truly his friend. From the time he ventured on this journey, Arkadash was with him, for over three decades now.  Mejhul spent his life, with half the year in the world out there, around people and their unlimited stories. And the rest half of the year of winter months in these deserts, wrapped in the night sky and their eternal tales.  He was no longer nameless though, he was now known, known as the Listener of the Fallen Stars.  Sitting in front of his tent in this fairly cold winter, lean...

Yes. It’s 2021.   And Yes. I am still single.  And I love the way you use ‘still’.  Like you know what’s right for me. Like you know me, my life, and it’s plans. That ‘still’ word used to sting me when I started hearing it first. Those were the days when I trusted the ways of world. Then slowly I got used to the ‘still’ word. But nevertheless, it made me uncomfortable, feel embarrassed.  You made me feel like a lesser being. The tone of that ‘still’ made my skin crawl. Every time you said ‘still single’, you forced me to compare myself to all other lives around me, like everyone was climbing slowly up the cliff and I was falling into the gorge. I will never forget that suffocation I felt, because of your word ‘still’.  And then I did drown. I did not know how to swim. I bobbed my head above, kicked my legs hard, drank murky water, I struggled to find a shore, while you stood there watching.  And that’s when I started seeing myself. More and more of myself. ...