A very ordinary man

by Masoom Iqbal in New York City

I go to work ,  quarter way on foot , quarter way on bus and the rest half by sub way. Five days a week. All these journey's takes me two and a half hour, preparing for the day takes me an hour more in the morning.

I dreamt of a simple life with wife and children like thousands other do.

Doctors appointments for the children and all sorts of shopping, laundry,  cooking and house keeping-- etc., all, I have to do --- because the beautiful lady had left us all on a sudden on a sad rainy day, Putting  the family in agony and distress.

I thought it to be my destiny and I will have to bear with this for the rest of my life .

Time ticked  by , my children grew older and  my hair had grown grayer too.

Seasons  changed , winter came and gone , spring  with all of its beauty and splendor fills the air , summer -- with its vibrant green leaves shadows the earth . Fall ,  spreading the color of the leaves all over-- specially on human minds is a blessing for ever.

I sat on a bench watching the sunset by the meadow
thinking of freedom, freedom from my bondage, freedom from the scourge of civilization . Freedom from the burden of responsibility and duty.

I was thinking of the vast expanse of the boundless universe , gods innumerable  creations, the  heavenly bodies and the infinite milky ways so vast and immeasurable .

I thought of the seven skies and of angels and the garden of Eden where   it stretches its flower beds with daisies , lilies , roses and innumerable counts of heavenly flowers, fern and grassland among the woods. Where streams flows down from the mountain top on all its  rocky way bending  here and there. Chirping birds sit on the fallen Willows  and maples scattered throughout the stream and squirrels run and halt for a moment for observation, a paragon of beauty with human attire come and asks me to hold her hand.

John, I will have to report a death , said the park security, on arrival to the police station, to the sheriff.

Where is the body asked the sherrif.
It is in my truck, frozen solid.

Masoom Iqbal

Nov. 15, 2013