The southern region was posh and plump with bustling trade and business endeavors. The entrepreneurial streak in the men were honoured with extreme riches. They were united with the world and were changing the face of humanity like never before. They were secretive bunch of smart industrious and religious men of honor. By God’s own grace they ought to end this world suffering. The chalisma of their effort was noticed and had always carried a tantalising bright spot overhead.
The northern region was archaic and was easy going and ignorant bunch of camaraderie. They were politically very correct and loved art and music. These are the days when electric bulb was not so popular. The gas laterns lit the street and the industry was hustling and bustling with iron and steel production. Street wagons were drawn by horses and automobile and tram ran along with them. Everybody smoked cigar and coffee houses were bustling with chatter and sound of crockeries.
A young stout man was walking down the street with his toe fabric protruding from the shoes. He had a bright smile on his face and carried a shiny leather bag around his neck. Of all men and women busy walking he was the only one absorbing the atmosphere. His name was C. John a bachelor apprentice from northern rural district. His eye lit everytime the bell on the glass doors tingled or tall men women passing by puffed cigar to add to the mist.
Every one had hats on their head except the smiling young stout John breezing the misty walkway. As the night grew dark and men and women began to disappear, he entered the narrow staircase of the tall building. It was an alley with no street lamps and signage but it was well maintained.
Next morning he went to the business center and disappeared inside the labyrinths of stone masonry until evening. He came out in the evening before dark with a face which was exhausted with day’s hard work. The days passed and the routine continued.
C. John was sitting on a hard rock slab. He was wearing a white linen shirt and beige pants held with rope around hips. There was a small canister beside him with a small flickering candle just litting the stack of crumpled papers and his left hand holding the pen. He looked up in deep trance like thoughtful but dreaded weary eyes. The frown on the temple of nose and strict glance held a lot of angst and revenge.
John was summoned from his desk for an impromptu discussion. He just nodded cheerfully and said will be there in a moment. The moment turned into several minutes he realized as he wrote down his last sentence and screwed the pen in its cap and put it down over the stack. He paced into another room which was darkly lit during the evening hours. As he entered the room, he noticed an eerie silence and deep sense of seriousness like never before. He tilted his head to the right and his heart flutterred. The adorable lady shapely legs with black sandals were high up the table as the back of chair was hung with the tug of her legs on the table. The other fellow men were standing across the room and non were seated. Upon sensing the environment his mercurial temper was flirting with the ceiling and made a split second decision to turn around on the doorstep to give the right message. He took a deep breath and remembered the old man’s voice “You are”. Listen and keep your demeanour till the last word.