The Metaphor: Part Four.

by | Feb 23, 2024 | Uncategorized | 1 comment

From watching the Christian Martyrs throwing themselves to the lions, to observing Buddhist monks setting themselves on fire.

“As I said, Mikel, I wasn’t always a seed. I was born in nineteen-ninety-three, the second of four, two of each. Unfortunately, in my culture, I was born a woman. This fact, especially knowing what I know now, was indeed bad luck.

Are you a religious man Mikel? Don’t answer that; I’ll continue. My life as a human was not kind to me. It told me how to behave but didn’t reward me for doing so. In fact, there didn’t seem to be a right way of doing things, according to my parents, anyway. My mother studied the Qur’an every day, eventually learning it off by heart. Meanwhile she tolerated this life as if it was a sentence, to be endured. As a result, she made our lives a misery.

Then there was Daddy, the man who, even though he was standing next to you, was a million miles away. Did I tell you they were married? My parents? It’s a pity no one told them that. I’ve seen strangers in the street who were more intimate with each other!

Anyway, to cut to the chase, all of this was for nothing. Every psychological disorder that life gifted me was ill conceived. My parents had backed the wrong religious horse, along with Christians, Buddhists, Sikhs, in fact most man-made faiths. You see, Mikel, they were all barking up the wrong theological tree.

I gave you a clue earlier to the true meaning of life. Your late wife; she, like me, knows the score. I’m sure she’s going to be happy in her new skin. After all, she led a good life, unlike me.

Speaking of which. That’s why I have ended up like this. The talking seed/seedling/plant. Because I was a naughty girl, this was my punishment.

Let me explain.

Even though all religions are man-made, the Governor, Him upstairs, decided that all humans would be accountable to their own beliefs. He had such fun with this man!

From watching the Christian Martyrs throwing themselves to the lions, to observing Buddhist monks setting themselves on fire. As for suicide bombers, what was all that about? The fact is Mikel, we have one life on this earth. A life that’s been billions of years in the making. We need to live it to the best of our ability.

Unfortunately, I was dealt a losing hand. In the end, my parents, my privileged brothers and my spoiled baby sister, drove me to end my life. He doesn’t like us doing that, so this is my punishment. To continue through each reincarnation with my mind intact. That, my old friend, is why you are now conversing with a plant.”

Silence hung over the room like a dark rain cloud, full and ready to burst. Mikel’s face slowly crumpled with eighty years of regret. Anguish introduced itself to him, shaking his hand vigorously.

“Fear not, old man. You have nothing to worry about. As I said, we’ll have such fun together.” The little voice sounded. “Meanwhile, may I have another drink please?” Mikel poured the remains of the water from the mug, into the pot.

The following weeks saw the old man change his attitude to life. He lived everyday, like it was his last. The conversations with his new friend were deep and thought provoking. Meanwhile, the plant grew bigger on a daily basis. Her leaves were large and glossy, her stem slim and firm. Then, one day, during their breakfast conversation, she suddenly changed.

“I have something to show you Mikel,” she said shyly.

“What is it, Nana?” He used the name he’d given her. Arabic for Mint.

“Here, on the end of my stem. Can you see it?” She said

”It’s a bud!” Replied the old man, cupping the tiny growth in his hands.

“Yes, you’re right.” Came the response.

1 Comment

  1. Kenneth Childs

    Even more intriguing.

    Reply

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