Stranger on the Bridge

Light split through the clouds. The sun smiled down on earth. I was on my cycle.1

I was to take the film posters to Utahan Bridge. This was my biggest project. Living in Dewdrop Avenue, I had to cycle seven kilometers with fifty posters and two buckets of gum hanging on either handlebars. 2

I had to do this by afternoon, but all I remember is that I never returned to the mart. I do not think they searched for me either. I had the buckets and cycle delivered to the mart the day after my change.3

I did change after my strenuous trip. The bridge crossed the most famous river that had inspired all artists of our country. I drew my first picture sitting right here. 4

Once I had reached my destination I saw my ancestral home, a small hut at the end of the bridge. My parents had died in a fire accident and I was found right next to this hut. I had to earn for my stomach and I often went hungry. The mart was good enough a shelter and I earned one pound a day. 5

Sixteen years hence, I had come back here with my best project. With my peculiar habit of creating collages with my posters, this seemed a lot of fun. Just when I took of all the material and put on my dark brown apron, I saw the most peculiar sight.6

There was an old man, dressed in a black gown standing in the middle of the bridge and waving to the skies. I thank this town that they do not create traffic on such early mornings. He was standing there and looking up as if he knew someone up there. This gave me a queer sense of inspiration and so I did finish my collage.7

It pictured a red mountain with Tom Cruise Cap on the base, and river flowing down that said ‘Love Never Happens’ with bridge across it that said ‘Colors of Paradise’. 8

Suddenly, the man stopped and came running towards me. I experienced a moment fear, anxiety and happiness. Once he was near me he looked at my collage. He exclaimed, “Oh! I have found him, my Lord! I have found him.�9

Confusion might be the closest word to my mind. Without hesitation I asked, “Me of all, why? When should I come?�10

I was astonished my lips were moving on their and my vocal chords a cunning companion. Those words poured out my mouth. 11

He said,  â€œCome, my son. Come home. I have the right place for you. You are the next to be created.â€?12

The next thing I saw was red garage and the unfamiliar person had led me through the door to a studio. My cycle, apron, and other articles were sent to the mart. 13

I did not know why I stayed quiet for the rest of the day. All I know is that now I sit here by my master.14

He had taught me to look further than what I found. He made my own colors, the colors of paradise. That day I realized a talent unacknowledged is as worse as a talent not used. I did use my talent and every time remained anonymous. It was not about crowd appreciation, but about a journey into oneself.15

Why did he have to do it for me? I did ask him that. Now, after thirty years, I did ask him, as he lay on his deathbed. 16

“ My dear stranger, as I was to you, you were to me. Our meeting was by fate not to be left alone. For long after my realization of the importance of self-knowledge, questioning, self-exploration and living life as a whole had to shouted loud into the best ears. I had told the heavens that it could take my soul the day I had found that person, a person with no trace of selfishness. Believe me, it was you. Don’t ask me why for I don’t know. I have one last thing to give you. With this I must say you have given me more than I have given you,� as he uttered the last words for me he fell asleep with a smile.17

I proceeded to see what he had given me and I found a parchment. It read:18

Lines of wisdom,19

Pouring down heights,20

Looking up to heavens,21

The thought of an epitaph22

End welcomed by heart, 23

the visitor has arrived….24

Looks of something 25

I understood the value of -26

With all respect to the journey27

and now on bed laughing28

the last breath with all my strength…29