Travellers (Short Story)
Do you ever notice how children endeavour to move? They long to conquer their surroundings – their eyes speaking fascination of the world, their open mouths screaming misinterpreted joys of sights they behold. They fall only to learn how bruises can turn to steps. Young ones secretly know a lot that we do not – yet we are too uncomprehending, too ignorant of the beauty of their language. As they grow older, their thirst too grows. They increase in their yearning, their learning and wonder. Their speech is in earnest, their curiosity relentless. So why does it seem that for the most part – the more one acquires, the less one values?
My friends – in what surrounds us we often see signs of the blessings we have taken for granted. Born with no arms, there are individuals who learn to adapt with their feet. Some who lose sight learn to see the world with sound and touch. Yet many of us who have not lost such gifts forget what we were born with.
Perhaps I speak from an unfamiliar realm. Among you are treasured readers who remain travellers on a global scale, leaving imprints in diverse souls. Among you are voyagers who stay curious, who explore, even if they have physically never left the country.
For I speak to fellow hikers that have been, and seen – but for whom the journey remains unfulfilled. Those who may have been scattered throughout the earth gaining nothing but cumulative emptiness – different terrains but all the same. For though the limbs are tired, though the kinetic capacity is being utilised – there is stagnancy. The desire to seek, the reason of learning our tricks of movement: – walking, running, driving – the purpose of our knowledge seems to have gone amiss. Circled destinations on a map, miles accumulated, but no real shifts. Perhaps the most monumental strides are irrelevant of the destination – those that remain ambitious, ventures with the same leaps and courage as the infants.
What irony it is of how adults chase wasted youthfulness as youth chase the potentials of adulthood. Now notice that child again. In their movement, in their progress, as they grow – they experience that longing to be adults. For they know that their energetic eagerness is presently confined. Yet they foresee, coupled with their object of our unrestricted movement and abilities to do as wished, there are worlds of possibilities. For now, we may settle for the stillness of serenity for the allurement of its deceptive comforts in our oft stressful and busy lives. Yet the sacred truths that we forget are kept in these young spectators – this life was not made for settling in.