Thursday, April 25, 2013

The Mad Man's Dream: A story for my Son

The Mad Man
Everybody thought He was mad, but he did not know, as he thought everyone else was mad. One cold and dark evening he was feeling weary, after a hard day of labor.  So he decided to take a walk near the river of tranquility. A river so clear you could see the tiny fishes as they swam, standing in one place, against the raging current. Though the current moved in their direction, the fishes stood still, only their tails flapping, as they challenged the river's flow, like ancient rocks in a raging storm, which never shifted with the winds.

Then the mad man, or so everybody thought, though he knew  it was everyone else that was mad, decided to rest under the old sycamore tree by the bank of the river of tranquility. He came here everyday to escape from all the madness around him. He came to gaze at the sparrows, thousands of them as they flew to a synchronized beat, moving all as one, dancing to a song buried deep in the DNA of every cell in their fluttering bodie. Dancing to a beat of forty thousand years.

He rested under the Sycamore tree, gazing at the birds, marveling at God's infinite majesty. The birds were in a band with no drum major, moving as one, the entire flock, thousands of  them, dancing to a song they never rehearsed, but everyone of them knew just when to turn, just when to soar and just when to dive.

He closed his tired eyes and drifted off to sleep. Then he had a dream. He dreamt that he was in a strange land where everybody spoke the truth. A land where there was no malice. A strange place where there was no gossip. A land where people did not whisper in each other's ears, speaking slowly, quietly, like thieves in the night, with venom on their tongues and hate in their hearts. A place where children revered their parents and young men respected their elders.

Then he saw a strange animal moving towards him. Was it running or was it gliding, he could not tell, for such was the grace of the magnificent beast. The feet of the beast moved, but it seemed to never touched the ground. It was as graceful as a butterfly in the summer breeze, muscles as supple as a lion crouching in wait for the unlucky deer.

As the beast moved closer, it became a man. A towering figure of a man, the tallest human he had ever seen. He walked with the confidence of an ancient warrior, Bai Bureh and Kailondo rolled into one. A man with the strength of Samson and whose eyes reflected the wisdom of Solomon. As he got closer, the mad man realized that this tall man was blind, yet he knew exactly where to step. His hair was as white as fresh Minnesota April snow and his unseeing eyes were as clear as dew drops on the red petals of a Segbwema hibiscus flower. As he watched in awe, the tall man came straight at him, walked towards him and walked right through him and he felt no touch. But he could smell the great man, a scent so heavenly it was like perfume made in the corridors of heaven.
Unicorn

The mad man turned in terror, wondering how another human being was able to pass right through another, like breeze through an open window. As he turned to look for the man, he saw that he had become a unicorn, a pale white majestic beast, as beautiful as an Arabian Stallion with a long straight horn the color of Ivory. As he gazed at the beast it started to run toward the setting sun in the distance. As he watched in amazement the unicorn grew wings and flew right into the fiery sun. Then the mad man heard a sound.................

"Bockarie, Bockarie, wake up!" Bockarie's wife stood near their bed, her eyes narrow with anger.
Did you just drink all the whiskey?

 "Did you just drink this whole bottle of whiskey that I bought for my birthday celebration tomorrow? It is now 3.00 clock and you are lying here snoring as loud as an elephant and  have not even gone to collect the boy from school, what type of useless husband are you?

Bockarie got up and hurriedly put on his briefs and his shirt. He put his feet in a pair of old shoes and rushed out of the house towards the school. His wife watched in amazement as Bockarie ran towards the school. He had forgotten to put on his pants! She wanted to rush after him then checked herself. She suddenly did not feel bad about the whiskey after all. The thought of the useless husband of hers rushing into their child's school with no pants on would be embarrassing, but it felt somewhat comforting.

Segbwema Blogger


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