Short story - A seed and A human (a story for the ones who think unusual)

Updated: Aug 5

On a beaming shiny day, I was ready to get departed from my friends, thousands of friends. We all were alike. No big deviations. We all were happy. All are gathered in a big sack. "Felicitations my darling fellows. We are going to get new life" I spoke with a firm voice.

"Wishes for a blooming life." one of my friend spoke enthusiastically.

"Wishes for a blissful life."

"Wishes for a wonderful spread."

From all the directions the wishes were echoing.

A cavernous voice is also heard amongst it,"Wishes to benefit somebody with what we have. In the best possible manner. In the finest way we can."

The whole sack surrounded with a big applause as if everyone is ready to sacrifice themselves.

We all had almost same feeling to bloom and we all had huge hearts to sacrifice ourselves for others.We were getting lifted turn by turn in a flock. It was my flock's turn.

I was keeping my head held high. Ready to get buried happily. Waving good bye to the remaining few and uttering in the loudest voice I could, "I am going deep under that soil. I am getting buried. I will surely bloom to my best. We will soon meet at a height."

"Good bye friend!" the remaining ones spoke in a gallantry pitch.

Suddenly, there was a loud cry. I couldn't understand much. What I could see is, the man holding me and many like me, in his hand got shattered with that wail.

He threw us all down. I luckily fell down on his slippers to see, for what I was curious.

Why was that huge cry surrounded everywhere? That was somebody's dead body picked high by few people. The whole crowd was groaning. A few murmuring,"He was a good person." ,"He went so early", "So many responsibilities, he left behind" As I was luckily stuck on the slippers of my master, was moving along him, listening to all that mumbling.

Going through the depth of all that howl and cry. They dug the soil deep and kept him inside. Oh! the sadness all over! Then the tears got dry on the cheeks. It was all calm now.

"Will he never come back?" I questioned myself. "Is it the end of life?" But Hey! no! things don't go like that. When I get buried, I get life. And so are my thousands of friends in the sack. How can he be different? Strange! Does the life start or end here? Whether the soil underneath decides the origin or the end.

Now that When I am standing high on the ground, my eyes can go bit far than earlier. My eyes go far to see everyday, somebody coming in that white and going deep.

For me, I am contented to get life. I know I will survive for years now and see many lives getting intense. I will stand high with hard skin surrounding me. But I have a question encircled for the generations- Does bury mean death or does it mean to get a life?

With love

A tiny seed in the sack

Written by Jaspreet Kaur

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