The Son’s Speech (A short story)
The entire world awaits, as a well-respected idol of all, a son, prepares to give one formidable speech.
Quite gentle and slow chattering, combined with low reverberating whispers of countless beings, echoed throughout the enormous walls of this gray-built hall. With the giant pillars of its structure, being off-white in nature, arching alongside the ever-expanding, dark and multi-colored windows in between, reaching right towards the ceiling and effortlessly curving into a dome-like apparatus, the invited guests along with hoards of general public searing beyond the purposefully placed barriers stood in anxious wait of the main speaker to arrive.
The aura stayed severely grim, even grimmer than the sole juncture which single-handedly entailed so many visitants under one roof. Each person truly present within this bleeding grayness had an attire of black upon their bodies and a wave of sadness upon their minds. For they all, along with the entire seeming world, were present in the offering of their deepest condolences towards a single life, a life of whom laid solely encapsulated within a black casket far placed in the center upfront. Inside of it, her old, withered, and lifeless body was framed.
Yet, with this remarkable overdue, the world would certainly not be present in the manner that it was, only to honor a usual resident’s life, a rather insignificant woman’s life, a seeming nobody’s life if it weren’t for the one who bore the entire responsibility to organize this juncture. A man, hugely well-respected and world-renowned in his stature, a person no ordinary, one who changed the whole world with his purposeful acts for the better, enriched countless lives by his pure-intention-ed ventures, and was aptly termed as the Synonym of Success by the people.
“Look, there he is!” one amongst the crowd sparked.
And the moment this man’s grave presence was recognized by the masses, a sudden drop in audible-ness of the destined whispers was noticed well around this vast room.
Gazing quite downwards with his face riddled with pitch sadness, looking at the glistening polish of his own black shoes, he walked gently yet instilled with true purpose in his moving stride. His entire attire of darkness reeked of a lone black shadow as every set of eyes present in the room, and the whole world, in turn, provided the shining light upon him, sniffing towards his every made move.
With only the periodic echoes of his own feet ringing across these massive gray-arching walls, he reached the designated pedestal. He took a great deep breath and turned forward, suddenly feeling the full force of millions that glared right in front.
Facing the world was not something new for him, a fairly usual task in his highly successful life. But then, the current outstanding purpose was painfully unique which led him to be quite uncertain of all the familiar attention at hand.
No longer he wanted to wait, as the hearts of millions were in their bare hands, all wanting to hear the words of their idol ring at any moment. Perhaps, knowing the gravity of this wretched task, he took out and placed the white cards upon the podium, on which he wrote his prepared speech. But he soon came to realize that when heavy emotions are at play, no amount of written words could help to truly speak. Sometimes, you just have to begin and let the flow take you.
As a result, cupping the queue cards back in his pocket, he took an utter deep breath in preparation for his next words and began.
“Today we are all here… to honor one life,” the severe boldness in his voice started to echo. “A person rather insignificant to most of the people present, but she meant the world to me… my mother.”
The entire venue grew listening.
“She was a woman whose existence was never quite recognized as mine, not many even heard of her until she passed away this morning.”
The world began to realize.
“She was the most extraordinary person I ever had the chance of knowing, a true angel upon my life… She unquestionably gave away her entire strength towards the single act of raising me, taking care of my every need. She was a woman who, for the majority of her life, stood utterly strong even amidst the lowest levels of our society. She had no one to help her, deemed helpless and hopeless she was… an outcast!”
His bold words peeled through the grayness.
“There is no doubt that she suffered greatly, even struggling to simply live at times,” he took another deep breath. “I remember when I was little, often she used to tuck me into sleep, my arms would accidentally graze upon her wrists, and I would feel one of the many deep-riddled scars of hers touch me,” his tone changed. “I will never forget them, for they are always a reminder of how her entire life was led.”
The whole aura was riveted with silence in hearing.
“Throughout her living years, even until her last breath was taken, she worked relentlessly to make something of herself in this world,” a withered smile managed to cover his face. “She would always try to achieve the seemingly impossible, while only falling short of it by a whisker every single time.”
Countless heads nodded in response.
The faint smile of his quickly faded as the nature of his next words daunted him. “Quite young she got to know of the life that would develop inside of her womb… And realizing the severity of such development, of bringing and raising a mere child in our increasingly unrelenting world, my alleged father jumped ship, ran away like a coward, and left my mother to solely deal with it all.”
The listening people resonated heavily with his words.
“Even when she possessed barely any money for a couple of decent meals in a day, she decided to raise me alone, and boy did she raise me well!” the sheer vocal gravity in his voice was followed by quivering breathing of grave emotion. “She tried so so hard to never make me aware of her difficult situations. She would sleep hungry, but god forbid I face the same!”
His voice echoed at the highest levels that it could.
“She was ultimately deemed as a failure by the society, by the likes of you,” he glanced at a million different faces all present in front. “But that same failure managed to raise me by her own self and make me the man that I am today.”
A seeming million faces nodded.
“Everything that I am, everything that I ever did, all of the lives that I reached, every act I did, I owe absolutely all to her!” his emotions seared momentarily, leading to an inevitable drop of tears then. “You call me the Synonym of Success… well, this success came from the womb of a failure!”
The desolate walls shook with grave truth.
“At times I would ask, ‘How did you even manage to raise me alone, mother? You must have gone through pure agony with me in your womb!’
And she would say, ‘Those were surely the hardest days of my life, son… But the moment I held you for the first time in my arms, every sort of pain just vanished from my body. Only happiness was left. Everything felt truly worth it, son.’ ”
Momentarily after, he took a deep and long pause in severe thought of his following words.
“But I did not call the world on this day… to only make aware of my mother’s life, sacrifices and existence. For I possess the will to make a difference, and difference I shall make!”
The unbiased attention of each being then was upon him.
“With the whole world listening, I want to reach out to each of those struggling voices, those unheard beings, people who unfortunately faced, and are facing, everything that my mother did throughout her life… those who have no one, are reaching nowhere despite monumental efforts, are not getting the satisfaction they deserve. All of the people who are deemed failures by society, know that one day you will give birth to success!”
His bold speech was peeling inside each mind present.
“None of you are helpless, or hopeless, as the world will make you believe. There is success brooding, developing its own life inside each of you. But the only thing that can lead your monumental efforts into vain, that can stop you from ever birthing success, is giving up, as I would not be standing here if my mother had surrendered to her struggles.”
The grave world stood understanding it all. With the son’s voice still echoing, and the entire world still gauging upon him, he rolled his eyes forwards where the etched black casket lay, encasing the resting body of his mother’s soul. Another deep breath was taken by him in deep contemplation and determination combined.
“I love you with all of my heart, mother…” a new and beautiful smile ached onto his wavered face. “I won’t ever let your life, your suffering, your failures be overshadowed by my success. You deserve to be known, to be appreciated, to be recognized by the world like I am.”
His words regurgitated across the aura.
“Your failures need to be kept on the same pedestal as my success.”
“Your failures must not be forgotten!”
“Failures must never be forgotten!”
With these powerful chants of purpose reverberating through the gray-arching walls, almost shaking through the glass windows, all by mercy of a son’s grave speech for his sole mother, the entire world transformed into that of a waking state. The roars repeated, heftier and louder, as countless minds grieved in acceptance of a singular fact. A lone truth etched into each witnessing being.
Failures must never be forgotten!
Author’s note
What is Success?
What is Failure?
How would you answer these two questions?
The response, for the most part, would definitely be different and unique for each one of us. Many may consider success and money to go well together, while others may aim for respect, fame, recognition, and happiness to come along with success. Whatever the case stands to be, it is a certain fact that inside every individual resides a pre-developed notion of their own form of success. And if we fail to reach this notion in any way, those are what we call our failures.
Although we do fairly understand the basics of how success and failure work, there is one thing that we always manage to get wrong. We treat success and failure as two separate entities when they both are deeply intertwined and severely entangled with each other. They are two ends of the same boat.
Success is no different. Failure is no different. They are both interdependent, and heavily reliant on one another. As a result, they can never be truly separated. They are one. After all, our success rests upon the pile of our failures. We can never reach one without the other. Yin and Yang.
Only after your true failures have been faced, you shall give birth to success.
If we want to reach true success, failure is the only way. They are not two different paths, they are checkpoints on the same journey. They are not two different beings, they are two hands of the same body.
But at times, while we give shining light towards success, we forget to glance at the failures which lay deep in its brooding shadow. It is high time that both enjoy the same spotlight. Grave failures must be given the same importance and meaning as Great success, for they are not opposites of each other, only two sides of the same wretched coin. Failures need to be kept on the same pedestal as success.
Once we truly change our perception of this concept, we can finally learn to treat our setbacks not as a point of return, but as a necessary endeavor on our path toward our own prosperity. This is how we learn to reach the seemingly impossible, by taking on our defeats and treating them only as a stepping stone towards our final victory.
Ultimately, we all need to remember that;
Success is the only success-or of failure.
And incidentally, this is precisely what my story above; The Son’s Speech, was written to make us realize. Deeper meaning resides within its characters and story, telling us of the true nature behind success and failure. It is the reason why I would urge my readers to go through it more than once, and take in the true meaning of each dialogue said, for it deeply shows the relationship that exists between failure and success.
Perhaps, once gone through it all, you may try to answer these questions again.
What is Success?
What is Failure?
Because your definitive reply may define the precise trajectory that your life is heading towards. Think and leave your responses down below.
Thank you so much for sticking to the end of this post!
I have always believed that stories are an incredibly powerful tool to portray intricate thoughts and complex ideas, they have a peculiar way of wrapping around our heads and making us realize crucial things. And using this power for good has always been my aim, to make this world a better, more thoughtful place, one story at a time.
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