Autumn I

Autumn. A word that he likes the most. Of the seasons, where the leaves on the trees turn to shades of red, reminding him that life, like all things, is transcient. Autumn. Such a beautiful word that leaves a sweet and bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Sweet that one has seen such beauty, yet bitter that the beauty has to pass from this world. He sat there alone in the park, dressed in his favourite hoody and black jeans. He had always felt comfortable in black. There was no need to worry about matching any colour with black. A

Alone. That was how he liked it. In his own personal world, a paperweight world where Autumn and Winter is the only season. His two favourite seasons. If anyone had come to sit in the empty space beside him, he would give the person such a glare that the person would think he had rabies. What was wrong with that? After all, he had wanted his own personal space. Not like he was robbing.

Always, the transcience of human life struck him. Perry had mentioned that the other day as well. And that topic had struck a chord in him. All his life, he had wanted to be something different. Something that he always wanted to do. Not like what his parents or relatives always advocated. Be a doctor, be this be that. Doing that will earn you big bucks they say. And where does that take you?

He had to admit, big bucks seem quite a good draw. With money, there is nothing to worry about, life will be good. But will it be satisfying? No one really knows. Sometimes, he gets really envious of the people born with a silver spoon in their mouths. They do not have to worry about anything. They get clothed and fed well. Everything that they want, they would most probably have it.

But what about him? He had to scrimp and save everywhere he went. Even for his education. It was quite difficult raising that large sum of money but he finally did. And even then, he had to watch out for his spending. His parents had not much money. Living in an apartment built on loans had already eaten up most of their life savings, and he would rather not add to their heavy burden. It seems after each month on the 26th, where all the bills would come in, they would age another year.

Rather envious, sometimes to the point of jealous, he might add. Why is God so unfair? Why are some people more equal than the others? Did God meant for him to do something else? So many questions, yet nobody had the answers. Perhaps the answers lies in the stars glimmering in the dark canvas above him, making a mockery of him. As if he was utterly useless.

Perhaps he might do something different after all. Rob a bank? That would be very different, with the added advantage of its monetary rewards as well. But money is transient. And so God speaks.

Is that to placate the poor? So that they would not rise up against the filthy rich? He always had a nagging suspicion that it was the case.

He had wanted to be a writer. To be an author. To major in linguistics. But he was ill-advised again it. And when people asked him what he was majoring in, he simply told them Economics. Economics, you say? Wow, that is a very good choice. Everyone said almost the same thing. But what was so wonderful about it?

He liked linguistics better. And he felt guilty when he said he was majoring in Economics. Like he was betraying someone. But then, that was just him. An insignificant piece in the major scheme of things. And who was to care that whether he would major in this or that? Probably no one. Like some transient being. Like what Perry said, insignificant lives in the space of the cosmos. Or something like that. He didn't really have a good memory.

The scheme of life. What did God have in store for him? And what about those leaves that are gently floating to the ground? Are they entangled in the weave as well?