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I Am nothing just a Bagger ……

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‘ Last night I stare the stars so much I talked to them perhaps they are the only source who can understand by unknown inner version, they understand my language since I was so young. They fascinate me since then and till mine last breath. You are shining I since I took notice of you especially when took grief of unknown expressions of instinctive source. You became shining more when I saw you in my solitude, in my loneliness. These stars are waving, moving, traveling in their own frame but they appear the same to me from such far distance. I can’t catch, I can’t be one of you, and I can’t be the source to near to you…….

The difference of distance should be more than my thinking as you all are the shining stars and I remain in my existence unknown I belong while breathing to the world of wonders but yet I stay unconsciously far above that in the world unknown. You are stars, infinite, numeral, unlimited in access belong to the Galaxies of times of times but I won’t be the compare to your existence. Your life, your age incomparable to mine I have limited countable breath, beatable and mark able heart beat where as you stars are above high above than that……’

‘Who do you talking old man’? Humbly questioned by a young boy ……..

He became troublesome a little, hesitated, give diverse expressions and want to hide himself under soil or any powerful roof that could cover him, hide him, in himself in his own inner world.

The boy still there looking to the old man, infact waiting for his continuation of delivering speech but he remained silent for sometimes …….The boy keep looking at old man’s gestures and moves, they were so uncertain and out of attained Will …

The young boy may caught be in the spirit of the old man as he himself look to stars in the same spirit… the boy caught in……..rear in…..rare in and caught up in the same tone as boy wants to know that why really stars are so fascinating and he realized that he is not the only one who look up to sky for them … for them in longer and longitude length … The boy very slightly emphasize his question again to the old man,

‘Who do you talking old man’? ‘I can estimate a little to yourself isn’t it? The boy stressed out his words in his curiosity where as he knows that old man was talking to stars…….

Old man said:

‘’ Leave me with my words, with my world, I am not like you young boy….. I am not that dream counter or dream maker… I am just a very common poor, weak in appearance and in thinking… I am nothing just a ….Just a …..I Am noting just a bagger ……..’’

He just waves his face to another side, lower the gaze and stays silent for a while.

The boy smiled as he was young enough to be so realistic but he made words, he sprinkled his serious side and said:

‘Though you straight up the line of your appearance in this dust, though your words correctly define your condition with this unknown corner, I don’t know which track of tragedy you been through but your tragedy seek wisdom and taught you well that you could explore the conscience with the indefinable speech, rare are those words……. rare are those thoughts…..

Distance is there of your age to mine……. but perhaps the thinking counts on same ground…. I stand here among crowd waiting my turn though I stare to my own this is what these stars intensively show ….I got your spirit though can’t caught up to their track…… Your tragedy may befall to your apparent livery of bagger but this tragedy always taught well….. Yes this tragedy always taught well so that one can even talk and spend time with stars to be the on the ground wall of conscience…….’ The boy still wants to continue his words as he didn’t finished yet

The old man laughed, aloud, stare, and act fondly, crazy in his gesture, trying to make the boy afraid of him out of his unconditional sudden moves …. Laughed … again and again and said,

‘You are the young version of mine in thought, you are more than intense perhaps what you caught up with life but still you are decently dressed you are not like me young boy …. I am just a ….Just a …..I Am a bagger ……..’’

The young kid was not afraid either he was stand still and fond of having even exchange of words with such bagger. He think and speak inside to his persona, to his character this old man is same in fascination of these stars as I am, this old man still stays here, me too and we looked up to the same sky with two different eyes of characters but these stars fascinate, this corner may be this old man’s home for a while but I need to move on, I can absorb whatever the vibes I am getting but can’t be like him to be in such appearance …. I have to move on …

‘Yeah you are and I can see well through, yeah you are, your tragedy taught you well so that you can be in wisdom, your tragedy through conditions offers wisdom and understanding to go through, perhaps you can be able crop but can’t cop up with, but I have seen through things, your tragedy taught you well, I appreciate your words of wisdom …..’

While paused here he just looked up to stars in sky shining and slivering…. Gaze one more time to the old bagger who was saying at that time again:

‘’ Leave me with my words, with my world, I am not like you young boy….. I am not that dream counter or dream maker… I am just a very common poor, weak in appearance and in thinking… I am nothing… just a ….Just a …..I Am nothing just a bagger ……..’’

He walked away while talking inside that perhaps this old man is not mad but look upon, perhaps sometimes he be the young guy like me the time of unconditional conditions, the time of certainly of uncertainties makes him the bagger…. But such people who become so disgraced somewhat rarely be the victim of some sort of rear tragedies, and as his pet sentence again flow to the tongue yeah tragedy taught you well Man………

He was young but sensitively mature enough to have the spirit in disguise, the spirit of disguise…. Perhaps this sensitivity derives to the world of knowledge unknown, wisdom of course that see through things…………

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