journey

Truly, the journey is very beautiful. Even if only for a few moments, one still finds peace” Zulekha says softly to herself.

Around her was a breathtaking view.

It was the season of falling leaves. A soft, gentle breeze moved through the air, the waves of water flowed quietly, and the sweet chirping of birds filled the surrounding silence.

Looking at the sky, Zulekha says, “There is so much silence.”

She walks ahead, and her foot steps on a dry leaf. The leaf crushes beneath her feet with a soft crackling sound.

She begins to speak again,

“Perhaps this season of falling leaves is the season of separation. Just like leaves fall and scatter away… yet somehow, they still look beautiful.”

Taking a deep breath, Zulekha softly says,

“Life is just like that too.”

And then she goes and sits near the tree.

Resting her chin upon her knees, she once again begins to look at the sky.

Quietly, she asks herself,

“Why is it like this, Zulekha?”

The wind passes softly beside her, as if carrying the answer somewhere far away, yet the surrounding silence only grows deeper.

Life never truly gives us everything we desire, and what life gives us… perhaps we could never have even imagined.”

Zulekha softly speaks to herself,

“Perhaps I do not even have the right to say anything about life.”

Then, quietly taking her own name, she says,

“This is Zulekha… and maybe the journey is still unfinished. Whatever has passed until now, whatever is here, and whatever is yet to come — no matter how it is — it all belongs only to me.”

She wished she could say,

“As beautiful as this world is… life is beautiful too.”

Zulekha turns toward the tree.

Placing her hand gently upon it, she begins to whisper,

“I wish I could say that life is like this too…”

But suddenly, she pulls her hand away from the tree.

She stands up quickly, her eyes widening completely.

“What am I even thinking? Have I gone mad?”

For a moment she falls silent, then softly says,

“Still… whether anyone believes it or not, what I received is something only a few people ever do.”

A faint smile appears on Zulekha’s face.

...****************...

In the city, a young man was buying flowers from a flower shop.

He seemed lost within himself, his gaze fixed only upon the flowers resting in his hands.

A little distance away, Zulekha was walking softly, humming to herself.

Suddenly, chaos spread through the streets. People began running in every direction.

Zulekha hurried forward to see what had happened, but while running, she suddenly stopped.

People were shouting excitedly as they passed by,

“The prince has returned from the war! Tonight there will be a celebration of victory!”

Yet amidst all that noise, Zulekha’s eyes remained fixed upon that young man.

He was tall and strong-looking, but everyone kept pushing against him while rushing past.

Zulekha softly mutters,

“He looks perfectly fine… then why is he standing there like a statue? Can’t he see these people?”

She walks toward him.

By then, the crowd had crushed the flowers beneath their feet. The petals were scattered mercilessly across the ground, as though the life had been trampled out of them.

Zulekha bends down beside him and begins gathering the broken flowers one by one.

While picking them up, she quietly says,

“People are strange… always running after money and those who already have it. If they help someone poor move forward, what would they really lose? Relationships too… they are tied to money now.”

She pauses for a moment before continuing softly,

“And now, even to protect your own dignity, you have to earn. Whatever path you choose, whatever dreams you chase… in the end, money is needed. We only wish for our needs to be fulfilled, for life to pass a little more easily, but people do not see that. That’s why power matters now… and today, money itself is power.”

A few flowers still rested in her hands when the young man finally spoke,

“Leave them.”

But Zulekha continues gathering the petals.

Again he says quietly,

“I said… leave them. Their place was there, and now they belong there.”

Hearing him, Zulekha slowly lets the flowers fall from her hands as well.

Silently, she stands up and walks past him without another word.

As she walks away, thoughts begin circling within her mind.

“Did I say too much?

Should I have said something else?

Or perhaps… I should have simply picked up the flowers and left quietly.”

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