One day I was walking alone in the woods.
It was a thick forest.
Could barely see the sunlight finding its way through the leaves.
The trees seems all the same to me.
I kept walking in circles I guess.
But I’m sure I’m lost.
There’s no sign of help.
There’s no signal for calls.
There’s no one in sight.
I’m really lost.
I feel lost.
I am lost.
Suddenly I heard,
“pliak-piak-plug-tuk-tuk-piak”
Followed by
“tik-tik-tok-piak”
“juku-keleng-kiki-olarukuku-hogafuku-tete”
I went ahead.
Hid behind a bush.
Peeped through the gaps between it.
I saw two aborigines arguing.
One holding an axe.
One holding a broken axe.
They seem angry.
But not to the extend of chopping one another.
They were chopping some firewood.
But there’s something strange between them.
Both of them were chopping the firewood differently.
One of them was chopping it horizontally.
And another vertically.
My guess is both are arguing who is chopping D right way.
Since there is only one axe left.
They were fighting.
Like kids.
Something in me wanted to help.
But they can barely understand me,
If my sign language works fine for them.
I was trained in India for some time by now.
So I jumped out from the bush.
TA-DA!!
They nearly threw an axe at me.
I mean both of them.
But by God’s grace, they didn’t.
I tried to tell them that it’s the same no matter how you cut it.
It’s gonna go into the fire anyhow.
It’s not what the shape is.
What’s important, is the WOOD.
If it’s wood, it’s good.
If the wood is good, it’s good.
Size aint matter.
Shape aint matter.
But they didn’t get it.
I tried.
I did.
I failed.
I left.
I’m still lost.
I still can’t find my way.
But I know I’ll be home anyway.
My home is sure.
My hope is sure.
I just don’t wanna get there in a lost manner.
I wanna get there the right way.
That’s why I’m still searching.
Still learning.
Still waiting.
Still praying.
