The restless nomad (Part 1)

PART 1

She liked jasmine, he thought as he saw the jasmine climber dangling from the mossy green rooftop of the dormitory he was staying in.

He sipped the coffee that he had managed to get his hands on in that hill covered, rainy town accessible only by rickety buses. It was half past two; had he been in his city, it would have been the hottest, most drowsy, and most irritating part of the day. After spending all his weekdays there, surviving and enduring the monotony he had created around his life, he nearly always found himself seeking refuge in the wild unknown lands during weekends. The limitless skies, lush forests, fragrant air, and meandering streams eased his restless soul and reassured him of his being alive. He was a nomad who was not free.

He’d met her on a narrow road on one such escapade. She was haggling with a loud, foul mouthed lady, who was squatting on the pavement selling flowers, over the price of jasmine flowers. He remembered feeling instinctively, deep within himself, that he knew her; and when she spotted him, he could’ve sworn by the look in her mysterious lively eyes that she innately acknowledged knowing him too. He had paused and she had come to speak to him. They realized quickly that they had been acquaintances over social media though they’d never met each other. They had spent a few merry hours together that morning, savouring each other’s blissful company - they walked around the village discussing random things; they had a couple of meals together; they had seen the sun set behind the majestic mountain ranges. That morning, when they chanced to have a meeting with each other in that delightfully strange town, he had figured that she was a nomad too. But a nomad who was free, perhaps...

The coffee had gone cold. The rain laden clouds mistily hovered around the giant grey mountains that towered over the town. He was in no mood to get into his dingy dormitory that was filled with stale, damp air. His dormitory overlooked a vast opening that had a gurgling fresh water stream flowing across it. He leaned back against the walls of his dormitory and wondered what his tiny baby was doing. He realised, with surprisingly little guilt, that it had been a few months since he had made any time to be with his family.

It had dawned on him a few months after his wedding that he was not somebody who could ever be a home bird. It didn’t help that his home loving wife was somebody who could never come to terms with his vagabond nature. And once they both had realised that, they had chosen to pretend that they were happy. Couple of years later, they had had a kid to endorse to the conventional society that they were, indeed, a very happy couple. Only, he still remained an ageless man who loved the wild.

He loved his child; but the burden of the mundane life he led with his wife outweighed his love for his kid. He sighed as he saw the wind blow a few withered leaves into the sprightly stream that drowned the leaves at once. He had retreated here to find answers; answers, to the questions he had been running away from.

How much should he suffer to fit into the societal grid? How long would he deny himself the freedom that he desperately needed, that was vital for his living? Just how long would his pursuit of happiness last? Why did he seem attracted to this girl who loved jasmine flowers? Why, when he knew it wasn’t meant to be; when he knew so well that he was married and that he had lines beyond which he ideally shouldn’t be treading. And why not, when he knew that this could be, at long last, his moment of breaking free from the rigid social framework that had always caged him? How many years could he survive a life such as the one he was enduring, one that lay pinned down by his past decisions? How was he expected to deal with these chains, with... with a wife who wouldn’t see his point of view no matter how hard he tried, with a kid that looked up to him, with his aged parents who had gotten him married and who were too old to handle the rashness of his radical decisions; with an unforgiving society, with a life that spanned out in front of him endlessly, like a desert without any promise of an oasis.

How would he excuse himself for not redefining his life even when he had an opportunity to do so? How was he to live with such a major compromise in his life? His heart yearned for that lady who loved jasmine... and yet there wasn’t much he could alter. Life was cruel.

The stream kept flowing. The wind breezed across the open lands. And he witnessed his stinging solitude in eternal restlessness...

--------

(end of Part 1. Part 2 will be uploaded when I receive a few perspectives about Part 1. Please share them as comments. I'd be delighted to upload the second part soon. :D)