Wendell’s Dream

Wired and charged as we move towards the spotlight, Wendell chokes on the fumes from the gutter. As we near towards the unruly crowd, ready to be jostled and pulled, I look back at Wendell and wonder. What does he know, that I don’t? Why is he not with us as we take the stage, as we brace the crowd, I ponder. Looking back to that day, now I know why not. Everything is so obvious when it dawns on hindsight. As we sat in silence near the glistening pond in the afternoon sun, Wendell whispered the reason for his reluctance. He had a moment of vision, which clearly showed him the futility of the spot in the sun or his role in the stage of life. While we all played our worn-out, badly written script in that drama, Wendell knew the course of the story. He knew how it all ended. He could see that there was no anti-climax, no twist in the plot but just a relentless drone of the hum of the life machine. Which was a little too loud, for a background score of the play. He saw the active indifference in the eyes and the body language of the actors, as the drama unfolded. I knew not, the entire script. Each scene unfolded to me in a quiet, disarming way and sometimes it landed on my head with a force of a sledgehammer. I prayed for the end. I was not enjoying my role in the play of life. But Wendell stood by the curtains and smiled his beguiling smile. As if he knew the secret within. I wished he would share the entire script with me. I implored thru my eyes, he just nodded and kept on smiling. “You need a vision, mate. I can’t help you. I have forgotten what I saw. But I saw what I saw” He quietly whispered to me from the wings. I cannot be bothered to understand his convoluted reply. I now pray for the Vision to come to me. So that I can quit the play and stand in the wings and smile at the unsuspecting actors on the stage. Have Faith ; Rewards will follow...