Happy Christmas
December 4, 2009 
To the past belong the glorious days and the most jubilant times, whose enchantment had faded away like a robust flower on winter, leaving no traces in the heart of mankind.
Anew, as some time ago, melancholy embraced the soul of the man, who lived in the remotest place of the world and about whom everybody remembered once in the year.
Considering upon those remembrances that came to his mind for some reason or other, this man drifted away in the sea of sadness. His vessel of thought went through the mild waves of recollection until the island of nostalgia, where just a smile was a reward and the spiritual satisfaction was the most appreciated treasure found.
As he ensconced in a wooden chair after the most arduous labour -done on the most special time for man, he reasoned about the fruit of such a task -whose seed did not blossom splendid now as it did long time ago to his misfortune.
‘Another year gone!’ The man heaved a sigh with a great deception in his heart.
Tossing off his head to a side and with a hand on his chin, he asked to the reindeer, ‘do you remember the old times?’
Rudolph raised its antlers.
‘Certainly, it was like yesterday… Before, the beard was not so real. And, the eyelashes were covered with cotton to resemble to an old man’s. Besides, I tailored the big jacket and baggy trousers in red ‘cause it was a colourful tone. Just right for Christmas! And, this outfit was made in a big size to portray the image of somebody happy, and, above all, kind.’
Saddening, he told it to the reindeer, ‘actually, I don’t need to stuff the outfit, I have put on weight enormously that it suits me quite well. Ha! About the beard and eyelashes, Time had dyed with the snow of the age.’
Rudolph whispered softly.
‘I know quite well about you think… Why we don’t think about retirement if we are so old?’
Within a gleam of hope in his restless heart, the old man said, ‘there should be still some lads that appreciate our work.’
However, doubt was cast upon his soul suddenly.
‘Who knows?’
Unexpectedly there were knocks on his worn out-wooden door.
‘What’s it?’ He wandered in astonishment.
The reindeer pushed himself up.
‘We’re in a Godforsaken place,’ said the man, leaping to his feet.
At the opening of the door, he watched the presence of a child of golden ringlets.
‘Who are you?’ He asked in fright.
The lad looking at him straight into his eyes answered, ‘a child… What did you expect?’
Bewildered at such a presence in this remote part of the globe, the old man asked, ‘how did you get here?’
‘I haven’t come here to talk about it.’
‘And, what have you come here for?’
The lad edged the whole thing, ‘may I in?’
His worn out bones gave way to his home.
Once the child stepped in had seated on a tool himself, opposite the wooden chair.
‘What are all these?’
‘Home,’ said he plainly.
‘Why many toys in this hidden place?’
‘Why? I give them away to children. About the distance of my home, apart from the world, nobody should know where I live.’
The lad had curiously asked once more.
‘Why do you hide yourself? You should be someone important.’
‘Don’t you know who I am? You have never received any gift from me?’ He asked in shock.
‘No.’
‘Oh, my God! Apart from that my labour is not fruitful than before, not all children have my gifts… I have failed enormously.’
‘How do you say? In what have you failed?’
‘You are in the place that any child wishes to be.’
‘Why?’
The old man had dropped himself in the chair to begin to answer it.
‘For first time, I will reveal who I am. And, for the first time someone is going to find out how I turned into the man that you see with your own eyes… In December, it is the celebration day of Saint Nicholas, a saint very worshipped by the Russians. Long time ago, somebody threw away golden coins through the windows of the houses of the poor people. I was born from the tale of three young girls could not marry for having not the dowry -a strict requirement for the Russian society at that time. Out of blue, on the day of Saint Nicholas, a bag stuffed with golden coins came through the window of the humble home of these girls, and one voice said: “From Nicholas, the bishop.” The young girls seeing no one told in surprise: “It must be an angel”. This kind person was their angel. And, from this beautiful and generous deed that one man did was wrought the legend: one person helped another. In different parts of the world, this man is known as: Saint Claus or Saint Nicholas. As time went by, man traded on the legend, and, with unmeasured greediness, had taken advantage of my image to bring a kind of happiness, which is not the same as one man granted at his time or like mine given to children. My labour is not for my own benefit, just for love to the other. I am either Saint Claus or Saint Nicholas. So, you just address me as wish.’
‘But, the trade wronged your deed?’
‘No… Before the children expected with anxiety for my gifts, in spite of those amazing and rare toys that they could have from their parents. And, they were happy because my presents mirrored: love and attention for your brother. Of course, there were some that had everything, but they did not have love from their parents. And, others did not have toys neither love. Perhaps, some children had both, but they missed the attention of someone else.’
‘Your deed must be the most beautiful thing in the world… But you don’t feel tired of being alone in this hut? Being a hermit,’ the child asked.
Caressing the thick foliage of the reindeer, he said, ‘you forget that I am with the reindeers, and Rudolph is my best friend.’
‘Although they are your company, I feel that you are worn out… In fact, you have begun to think that your life is meaningless.’
The old man ensconcing in the seat answered, ‘it is not like before… The labour was tough and required being apart from the rest of the world. But, in this fabric every moment was of happiness. Everybody expected me impatiently –and it gave satisfaction, though. Nobody knew who I am really. They just had this distorted image of the traders portrayed about me. However, every 25th December the children were glad for the presents, and, some of them were beaming with happiness ‘cause of that for someone in the world they were important, at least, on one day in their lives.’
‘Why do you have to wait to do your deed so long?’
‘That man’s kind act was done on the day of Saint Nicholas, but the tradition of giving away was set on Christmas. In some countries is on Epiphany day, which is on every January. So, my deed is carried out on two dates. But, on Epiphany day is not Claus who throws away the gifts through the chimneys. However, I don’t care if I have not the credit for it. To me the most important is the happiness brought.’
‘But, it is not the same now?’
‘Not at all… Now, they are not pleased with the presents neither expects me anxiously.’
‘And, if some did? After the date, they forget you.’
He gave a sign of approval.
‘You do the same mission of love that a man began long time ago… At the beginning, it was satisfactory but it isn’t now.’ The lad said, analysing the case. ‘However, I might say that you should be proud of this noble act, although it is not appreciated.’
‘It was in the past when I was pleased for my deed. In these days, it is meaningless… I’m a nobody.’
‘God has never created a nobody. I assure that… Besides, you should understand that the wheel of time is unstoppable, and, the times change continuously. In life one should use multiple ways to carry out the same mission. One mode is right for a period of time… Perhaps, just for one time. So man should change his ways to attain just a little of what he had before. And, when it is got -at least a little of what you have desired, man should be glad. Besides, happiness is not about receiving, it is just about giving the best to the other. You feel enjoyment of giving the fruit, but not of snatching it away from the vineyard.’
The old man grumbling said, ‘times have not changed… It is evil that has bloomed in the heart of the most little… And, for this reason everything is completely different. What a pity!’
Those crystalline blue eyes of the lad beheld love in the restless man who despised himself for his misery.
‘Have you even desired to give it up?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why have you not done it?’
‘Who would do my mission?’
‘Nothing is eternal for man. Not any condition of life is invariable in time. God is eternal, the only one.’ The child added. ‘Don’t weigh yourself down for the mission that you yourself assigned in life. When you are not here somebody would take your place. In this way, man will appreciate your mission. Nobody appreciates a thing unless he losses it.’
‘What if there is not such a person?’
‘Who cares! Nobody is interested in you anymore, according to what you have told me.’
‘What about the reindeer?’
‘Let them go!’ The lad answered.
‘Who you are?’
Suddenly, the vestment of the child became a scintillating white tunic from which emerged on the up left a burning heart with a crown of thorns around, and, above it, a cross of blood.
Admiring at the magnificence of the Divine Grace, the old man went down at the feet of the lad.
‘This is the hurt of love’ told He, revealing the gash of his flank. ‘One time I did the greatest act of love for another. You should understand me because you have done it too.’
‘Where do we go?’
‘The dream is over.’ He said. ‘Happy Christmas.’
‘Happy Christmas,’ repeated the old man with teary eyes.
On that night, two woodcutter lost in the wood came across a hut, in which they went in to shelter themselves and, they found some reindeers around the tired figure of an old man, who rested peacefully.
A Dream About Flying
May 11, 2009
Filed under Fairy Tale, Love, Romance, Writing
Tags: Fairy Tale, Love, Romance, Writing
Wings to fly away from what weighs down so much, it was a lad’s longing.
His mother had run away with her lover. His father, who struggled hard to make ends meet, was up to booze. And he had been abandoned to fate. And, this seemed no bendable.
Obsessed with being in someplace else, he dreamt of traversing the skies to a better scenario. So, he read avidly books of aviation at the library of his high school. His desire was to be away from all he knew. But, he did not have wings. Just in his dreams, he had wings of bird feathers and wax -though he did not want to run the same fate as Icarus.
Empty-handed and brainless about the subject, it meant not to get even a metal ones.
In his fantastical mind, he recalled the early days of aviation when rare apparatus were invented to fly. Unfortunately all these attempts were failed ones. And this let him down so much. Anyhow one day he bumped into the photo of the design of a flying machine over a bicycle, so that his days turned into plans of girders, iron-bar railing and canvas.
Sunk into drawings and ideas, his world went upside down out of blue when a girl came along his life. His vivid imagination was a fascination to her, and her generosity drew him to her heart.
Love fulfilled his lonely days.
Her love granted him courage and determination. And, he would no longer rely on imagination. The girl taught him to put his thought into words and these in motion therefore. So he put behind all about the flying machine. And, he learnt to fly by himself.
They joined their lives and looked for another place.
‘Love is a mysterious and powerful energy that purifies and strengthens man. It gives a sense to life. Besides, this lets us know about ourselves, and also shows that worth is in ourselves only.’
The lad wrote it at the end of his life.
The Purging Soul
October 29, 2009
Filed under Mistery, Stories Of The Dark Side, Thriller, Writing
Tags: Mistery, Stories Of The Dark Side, Suspense, Thriller, Writing
The white hand of the judge had turned the hourglass upside down. So as every grain of sand went through the neck, events happened in time and place on Earth.
With a rustling noise, obscure clouds rushed to the far line of the horizon, summing into thousands oppressing the whole cavity.
She beheld in dread the enormous stretched branches of the colossal trees rocking to and fro as the car went at breakneck speed along the sinuous road through the forest.
The woman cried out, ‘slow down!’
‘I need to get there before the strike.’
Suddenly, a thunder had rolled. And, one shuddering terror went all over her, bursting cold perspiration from every pore of her body, as her heart fell into an utter depression.
‘Take your foot off the pedal.’
His brow reddened with rage.
‘Do it for our baby, please!’ She begged.
‘The company’s shares will drop if I don’t get there on time to stop the strike,’ her husband roared.
All of a sudden, her senses were left to susceptible perceptions. So inquisitional voices welled inside her and, indistinct sombre outlines emerged along the road. One kind of spooky anguish horrified her heart so that the agony of suspense was unbearable (She was so confused with these phenomena and the phantasmagorian conceptions of the headless angel forms seen nights ago.)
A repulsive dizziness strained her and, her sight went into blur.
Into the blackness of the Gods’ uncertainty the passengers of the vehicle were thrown. Above, wandering spirits gathered around the scene of the man’s head lying unconsciously on the steering wheel and the woman’s body overthrown through the broken windshield -whose blood leaked along the forehead.
Suddenly, the man caught of a bleary glimpse of a shape that grumbled some words, ‘shall I take her baby?’
‘Not the baby… Take her!’
‘I will please you,’ said the black robed spectre
Hence, the spirit had written his will in some volume of fortuitous events, so that his child was born and blossomed into a gorgeous woman.
‘Your strike of luck was to meet her,’ said the mother.
Having a tipple of the scotch, the son told, ‘I’d better wed her.’
‘By all means.’ The woman added. ‘So we will recover our position in society.’
The phantasmagoric conception with head of flame had slammed the hammer over the bench, and, in a jury box, one chorus of black robbed spectres cried, ‘ so be it.’
Old words had taken the winds out of the man’s sails.
‘I love him, father,’ told she.
‘To be honest, I am not sure about his feelings to you.’
‘But, I love him.’
It was written on the pages of unfortune that he was due to walk down on the aisle to the altar where he would deliver her daughter to the leech. Unpredictably, the reel of his old story was unwounded to occur anew.
‘You didn’t know the ropes!’ The woman shrieked.
‘Don’t take all the blame on me.’
‘The old man didn’t go wrong.’
‘Your old man, isn’t it?’ said he.
‘Have left us onto the streets.’
The black soul who had written the old man’s will before inked the woman’s fate on the volume of misfortune anew.
She looked at her sandals and, then said, ‘long way?’
One indistinct headless and black robbed spectre told, ‘you are at the end of the road.’
Suddenly the atmosphere became so close. Blue devils pervaded her soul. And, her heart tumultuously swirled as her senses were leaving to the body.
In one sombre office, the woman was hung to the ceiling.
‘Your mission was done,’ said the black spirit.
‘Incarnated my daughter, so I could do it.’
Then, one flame-like headed angel told, ‘indeed.’
And, the soul evolved into one superior order.
The Most Beautiful Woman
For her the quote: ‘Nothing can be taken for rule!’ was senseless; but it was quite significant the one that said: ‘In this life, nothing is certain.’ Paraphrasing the author’s words: ‘In this world there are only two tragedies, one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it’, which it was entire true as she had experienced it herself in life.
This woman had come into the world as a little ugly duck, but she was her parents’ love anyway. Sometimes she was her progenitors’ embarrassment for being the target of awful pranks of the people around. However, she had grown up amid her family’s affection.
Whilst she was just a girl there was no annoyance, but at the time that she became an adolescent, her world was turned upside down. Unfortunately she was not the adorable girl of that all boys dreamt -not a precious moulded flower as those girls who were cheerleaders. In fact, she was just a plumpish blonde with granny glasses. So, on those years she had not received any other attention than her parents’.
The adorable young, who dated the most popular girl in class, would not invite her to the prom. Neither would anyone else. She had convinced herself that she was not fated to the best.
Then, her days in high school went by without shame neither glory.
During her university years, she had to put up with the fact of being just brainy and hankered for what the other young women had. She did not look like her classmates, and not much less like either those models of the lingerie catalogues or those stunning movie actresses. She was just a simple young woman. Not even a shinning one. She was justly an ugly duck.
With a low self-esteem and the idea of not deserving what she considered the best, she had carried on.
As the university period had ended she faced the real world. It was not difficult to find a job with her marks. She was summa cum laude. In few years, she had climbed a high position in the multinational company that she worked for. But, she was fed up with the fact of not having what she really desired. She wanted to be somebody different. A glamorous and beautiful woman, justly as the story said: ‘the dream of the young, and the desire of the old’. The same one about which she no longer cared, which it told as a beautiful woman found love when she turned into a little ugly duck, even though this tale was her source of hope on her teenage and university days.
She would not spend more her days in dreaming of what she could not get, rather all those men that she did not have. So she put herself in action. And the first that she did was to add to her schedule a workout to lose those pounds extra. Apart, she had looked for a good hair stylist, who changed her colour and coiffure. And, she had thrown away her old wardrobe. Lastly, she had immersed in books of self-help.
However, all that was not enough. Then she contemplated the idea of plastic surgery, apart from all the diet that she did, for there was no slimming programme that she had not done. So she went through a liposuction, after breast implants, and lastly, a face lifting. Therefore she was a new person. A woman completely different from what she had been. Plastic surgery had turned her into the most beautiful woman. And, everybody around had noticed, so that they gave her complements about her recent beauty. All those men of whom she dreamt became aware of that gorgeous woman that she became.
Once she was prepared, she went to the encounter of all those men that were craving for her. So, there was no any man that she did not date. But those men, who courted her, were not as the ones with whom she had dreamt all her life.
Unfortunately, the men in very high positions, who had spotted her attained beauty, desired her for themselves, but as lover. And the men, the same sort as those in the directory board, would not leave their wives for her. All of them just wanted her for a casual affair. And, for others she represented a sort of trophy.
On the streets or in her neighbourhood, every single man approached her by her physical attributes and not by her inner qualities. So, the world was not like as she had imagined neither had thought. Before she was disappointed for not having what she yearned for, and now she was frustrated to be able to get what she was mad for. But it was not as she had expected.
She had considered that she was unlucky in life. She never reached what she really desired. Perhaps, everything would have been distinct from the beginning if things had not been as they were.
But her reasoning crumbled when she had run into the woman who had been the most popular girl in her high school. This woman had married to a man who was the boy that never took the little ugly duck to the prom and who did not come along even her dreams. The boy who was too much for her had turned into a horrible person. He wasted his life in alcohol. And, this had ruined the days of that lovely woman -whom he had beaten once. So the life of who was once a popular girl was miserable.
For first time, she thanked to Heaven for not having been that lovely teenager that was this bitter woman now.
As time wore away, her expectations did. Her attained beauty did not bring the most appreciated whims. Already she neglected physical appearance. And, she almost cursed her beauty.
However, the fated thing would come to her encounter and not matter who was neither did he look like.
All of a sudden a new employer began to work in her division, and he did along with her. He was the man who did not care about appearance. In fact, he was not on the top of the world for being around a beauty as her.
Months went by, and his unpaid attention to her physical attributes let him get to know her. And, she was able to show her true colours for first time. Talk shop and words about unimportant things grew into love.
He was not the man for whom she had been mad. There was no similarity between him and those handsome men of whom she had thought -before sleeping when she was a teenager.
He was just the man who committed to her, who would take her to an altar to swear his love before a Lord’s minister, and for whom the world did not matter as long as she was there.
At the end, she had comprehended that beauty was not paramount to find love. And, that beauty laid inside and not on appearance.
Love was acceptance. And the beauty was to be loved as she really was.
