Looking outside the window #37

“Good morning” It was the deep voice in the silence that sliced up her sleep.

“Good morning!” she smiled, “Have we reached?”

“No, just a few miles to go”

“few miles!” She tried to awaken herself completely. “Do you have a map or anything?”

“Not really”

“Then how do you know how far we are?”

“We are not humans, remember?” the ridiculous reply from the driving seat again!

Ignoring that, he continued “We have been wanting to go here since a really long time. We have done our research, don’t you worry.”

His smile was so convincing that made her feel right.

But she still didn’t understand the reason of them going to such a bizarre place. So she asked. And he began the story.

“This place once used to be a king who loved music and art. He was fond of dancing but was never allowed to learn because ‘Dance was for girls’ they said. When he was young, he ran away from his palace and started aimlessly roaming around, in hope that one-day art will find him. He starved, without shelter, he knew he would have been searched for. One fine day, he discovered a pond on his way and he decided to take shelter for a while. As he sat there, he grabbed a handful of sand and tried to hold it in his palm, but it slipped…and with it, slipped the hope of living his dream. This dead desire brewed in the silence and blew a wind of sadness. His cheeks drenched with the rolling tears and he decided to go back to where he was expected to belong.

His tears started rolling down and clanged into the pond. It was so quiet that he could hear the sound of his tears dripping into the water. And in a fraction of a second, it created a rhythm. Suddenly the wind started blowing with a force and the trees started swinging and the leaves started singing a tune that only he would understand. He realized that he was far from quitting his dream. He inhaled the tune inside his body and filled it with music.

He swayed with the wind. He was so graceful that a woman might have felt like trapped in a stiff man’s body if she would have seen him dance. He danced facing the sun, as if performing for it, in such tranquility. He waved his hand around as if he was playing with the wind. He gathered all the energy in his figure tips and released it in the air, as he moved. His heavy body seemed to be simply floating in the atmosphere.”

“Like you!” she said it out loud.

He was puzzled at first, and then he smiled that smile at her. She was embarrassed a little and insisted on continuing the story.

“While he was so lost there, he was found by a group of artists that hopped different cities and performed for the royal families as their servants of entertainment, a small group of boys gathered under the roof of the soul purpose of the love of art, neglected by the society. They loved how beautifully he made the nature sing to his rhythm. They asked him if he wanted to perform with them and how could he deny? This is what he wanted. This was a chance to follow his dreams without any restrictions!

He started to perform dance and was appreciated everywhere. He was the star of his team and in no time he became the country’s most famous dancer. Even though he was just an entertainer, his moves were so mesmerizing that people would fall in love with him.

Then came a day where they were invited to perform in his hometown. His father’s kingdom. At first he hesitated, but soon enough he decided to perform his best and prove what he was born to do.

On the other hand, little did the King know that his son had run off to become a dancer. When he entered the palace to perform, the ministers and the people in the palace yelled out of surprise and disappointment and the room was filled with disgraceful murmurs to the king’s ears. The king stood up from his throne and was fumed to see his only son, a perfectly eligible prince, to be a mediocre entertainer. It stabbed his pride and killed his soul, hence he decides to do the same with his son. He pulled out the sword and swung it on his son. The prince, in no time, was lying on the floor cut into two. A red river flew across the hall with the silence of his music.

A father lost a son. A kingdom lost an eligible ruler. A world lost an artist. But most of all, a rhythm lost a soul….

All the kings from different countries were alert of the fact that there was no heir to this kingdom anymore. They planned to take over. Some stretched their hand for friendship, but when the king turned them down, they started a war. The King lost the war, people lost their lives. Immediately after the war, a plague hit the city and every single soul suffered and died. Ever since the city has been believed to be cursed by the prince. No king would want to rule that place and hence it was left untouched…”

There a prolonged moment of grief and silence. And then he continued,

“But the soul, they say, The Dancing Prince, is still around. And if you visit the place, you can still hear the rhythm and feel the beat…

I…want to dance to that dead tune.”

 

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