A writer and artist........how thick a line can you draw between them?

I believe a writer is an artist who paints his thoughts with a different brush, but his paints being his wealth of vocabulary. He just needs to paint them in the right places.

But the painting looks beautiful provided his hands flow freely with his eyes in sync with his mind, which is nothing but a gift. A gift of being original.

Hoping that every article i "paint" would only give you a piece of my mind.....

I welcome you to "ANGEL'S INFERNO"

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Santiago's journey

Not many days ago, a friend of mine told me it was fresh to find me reading literature. May be just the compliment I needed to buy myself a jewel. Probably the cheapest one I’d ever imagine. As flipkart keeps its word and delivers it in 4 working days, I ripped of the package and there it sat. Nearly 200 pages, paper-bound with brown letters shining when light knocked them at an obtuse angle.  Unlike many, who would lock up their jewels in a cast iron safe, I decided to keep it with me till I’m done with it. So, there I was, walking, tossing, turning and twisting my body as my eyes and mind refused to unlock themselves  from the bold letters of the book.

His name was Santiago, a shepherd. With his wandering soul was I, peeking into whatever he saw and figure out what he was seeing. Meeting people he came across, asking them if they’d ever meet him again. Travelling with him wherever he went, looking around to see if he was close to where he wished to go. I just couldn’t pull back. He did not let me. I had to make the journey. A ride that was worth a pat on my back. I could learn more than what a 60 year old Baba tries to teach his followers.

Santiago did have a lot of questions. That was the reason he decided to be a shepherd, so he could find answers to his questions.  Fuelled by merely a dream, which looked absurd to many, he was passing through fields, forts and continents and ultimately the desert where he met the person who was looking for him. He was eager and equipped to answer all his questions and lead Santiago to something that cost him a fortune. His destiny.
Many feel their destiny asks them to yield to what life has to offer you. But Santiago felt he had something to offer his life. The dream. That was his destiny. He wanted it badly. So badly that the whole universe had conspired to help him realize it. Santiago did realize his destiny, but more importantly, he made the journey. 

Santiago was done.

I was happy for him and for myself having made the journey with him.

There I was, sitting with awe and admiration, wondering if it was the end and hoping it wasn’t.

It was.

I could do nothing that just get up, close the book, and take a deep breath, having spent 200 bucks in the most efficient way ever, reading the bold brown talismanic words for one last time.....
Written by Paulo Coelho

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