The Retreat

Utkarsh Yatharth Arya 

(explores life)

He was another stranger in the city. Someone who was away from the world of mesmerizing variety of scenes the city offered. He had learnt to compromise with the fumes of the many cigarettes he often smoked in his room. And that day he was on another trial of his long profession. He had given up fighting the darkness inside, his nemesis. That day he came out of his confinement and walked in search of his prey who was next in the list of his 'final appointments'. The another day of the autumn was touching everything with its frozen fingers as he was walking at a calculated pace leaving behind the old post office, the clock tower, sleeping beggars, running vehicles and dirt of the uselessness.

He was now near the c-31 avenue, he took out a sheet of paper that contained some name and address scribbled and folded too many times. And he left it lying on the icy roadside to decay like a dry leaf of that gloomy season clutching people in their homes. He moved ahead searching for a certain name out of the many nameplates jammed on the entrance doors. He finally found it. The door was not locked and he entered in the dimly lit room. His target was sitting on a sofa half asleep and half reading a book. He wanted to wake him up and tell that he is going to die. But he left the idea.
Suddenly, he came in front of him pointing his gun at the man he didn't know and not aware of the reason for yet another killing. For him, it was yet another 'red' assignment. His eyes fell on the ashen face of the old man. Why killing this man who sits next to the grave.

He looked, looked deep in his innocent eyes, exploring the years of solitude and obstinacy.

In his eyes, he saw his own wishes that had been tormenting his endless nights for last eight years he suffered in the exile.In his lonely eyes, he saw the flicker of freedom and the journey from youth to restless old age, he feared killing the remaining hope that refused to die.He feared doing anything. He bent down and found a chair to sit and weep.The gun fell out of his hold.He looked out of the only window of that abandoned-looking room and found peace in the wet grass and the soaked street playing with rain.He took his gun and left the stranger alone back in its old happy state.He moved out within himself and walked alone amidst the noise of the ill town.He threw his innocent gun that slid down the cliff and started searching for the rainbow he left lonely forty years ago when it used to be the best sight for the wanderer within himself and thinking for how long he will hide his face from the sun and the stars of the full moon night, he decided to face them. He went home, shaved, packed and left the cell forever.

He never belonged to that cellar.

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