As the saying states, I see it, I like it, I want it, I get it. Rather, is there one like so?
Deeper in the valleys of Karlana, a little lounge stood wrapped in dust and silence. A cheeky breeze crept through the cracked walls, carrying the Earth's scent into the homestead.
Hamsi stood by the window. Hands folded over the other. The morning light fell unevenly across his face, but it did little to soften the shadow in his eyes.
"Papa, is there anything to eat?"
A soft voice was heard from behind. Hunger lived in every word. Vainly, there was.Hamsi lived a sweet and swift life with Sham - his little son, in their small beautiful cottage surrounded with blooming flowers of all kinds.
Passers-by always thought the house was a flowery ranch. Though they rarely had one.
Cocks kept on clucking, and immediately, Hamsi knew it was almost lunch hours. He had gone hunting for some hours and luckily brought goat meat for him and his son.
In their language, they called the little meal - dinner.
He roasted it as his son narrated him fantasy stories. Soon, the meat was ready.
They ate.
All done, sleep claimed them.
The breezy night knocked. From a distance, too clear to ignore - a humming sound rose.
Confused, Hamsi stirred from the layers of sacks and stepped toward the hollow space beside the door, they called a window.
It was a hummingbird.
'But what could a hummingbird be doing in this cold, chilly place like this?', his mind wandered.
Courageously, he went on. Took it in his hands. The bird trembled. Blood stained it's feathers. Strange letters were carved into its body.
They were meant to him.He flipped the feathers to read. 'All the cruel things you did to me and my people, the killings, your own blood will repay them.'
Hamsi was taken aback, he was shaken.
Sham, who had woken up - not minutes ago, saw his father terrified and asked,
"Father, is something amiss? Is there anything wrong."
Words were swallowed. Didn't utter anything, stared at him, then told him to go back to sleep for reasons, 'morning was around the corner.'
Days passed, bygones were bygones, thirty two years down the line.
Sham squatted in the corner, his drained-sick father on his laps, sadness clearly sketched on his face. Hamsi, saying his last words to his son.
All that time, he stuttered.
"Sham, my beloved child...be good. I want you to be good always. I know that all I have done for us was never enough. I want you to...go, explore. Build something I've never built. Build bonds with people. Live a promising life son."
A stream of tears on Sham's face flowed continuously. Paused, then continued,
"My son, Beverly...Beverly fronts, Nalum...son, Nalum...."
And there, he passed.
Sham whimpered. But couldn't hide it. Cries stormed all from him. Visible neck veins came along with unsummorized pain.
The cruel world removed an important chapter in his life. Left him partially parted. Not knowing whom to run to, where to ask for assistance, who to laugh and cry with or who to have a conversation with, anymore.
He felt a sharp blade stuck between his trachea.
There, he struggled to cry. With a faint, raspy voice.
"Papa this cannot be the end, no! Papa no!" Unable to control his pain.
He buried his father behind their small cottage house. Mourned for days. Eyebags became dull. Darkened by misery. Soon, his manly figurative characters arose from his insides.
Alive, he was again.
He stopped wailing. Memories of his late father remained in his heart. He decided to wake up.
There, he remembered his father's words, 'Beverly fronts', what were they and why would he continuously say such?
'What is there to find about it? Most of all, what did he mean?', his unknowledgeable mind wondered.
All that time from the day Hamsi passed, the house was in chaos. Sometimes, breathed too loud. Every corner carried his father's silence.
Sham never understood why. He barely gave the breathings any seriousness.
The night his father died, the land refused to be silent. Seeing these chaos randomly recurring day after day, it was enough.
By dawn, Sham packed his few belongings and left.He did not look back.