"He lived like a dead tree in a graveyard."
"A Storm On The Mountain" is nominally about Aanav, a young boy who flees the portrait of a family and finds refuge on a hill where he befriends a shepherd who wears goat-skin-trousers. Still, his chaotic...
He wrote words on a paper and held within his heart, secrets that nobody would ever ask for. He kept them deep into his heart, stacked like a beautiful library, arranged so intricately- he'd read them one-by-one whenever he wanted to. He seldom spoke except to the shepherd. Some days, he spent hours on the naked grass, whispering to himself, listening to the song of nature, smiling alone as if knowingly he had met someone he'd lost long ago. He smoked cigarettes and played with his dog.
He'd dedicated himself to fragility, faith in the smallest things- the silence of the night, the brilliance of the morning, the songs that birds and breeze and trees and rain sang.
Long gone were the thunderstorms that followed his childhood daily. At breakfast, at dawn, before sleeping, in dreams, at the parks, and school.
He had witnessed the birth of a butterfly, a life left behind by a snake- he imagined what it would be like, To leave a life behind forever? He left behind what was left of a broken web, a weak dwelling, one that was washed away by vigorous storms. But had the strings of the web left him?
All that had happened, and all that didn't lurk in his body like snakes crawling, or caterpillars roaming around a leaf, or flies and bees flying around food, or like the blood that marched through his veins. Everything had settled itself into his mind, from the heart.
Perhaps it's true that only a handful of moments can pool together and drown a life- and those very moments can determine the lasting aftermaths of a rainstorm.
Who was he?
The God of Happiness.
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