Me and the Spectator Club

There is a place she wants to go to. A hill station smothered with fog. She wants to go there all alone. She doesn't know that her ways are going to be new and unknown---roads that turn and twist like pythons through the vast green tea estates. Far beyond these estates, there is a forest extending towards eternity. She knows it, and those dark woods definitely make her bewildered. But she is all the more excited by the thought of reaching her destination. She is not aware of the point of time she will meet her target; she also doesn't know whether she would ever reach there or not.

All she knows is that among the woods there is a small hut, and all the flora and fauna of the forest take care of it like its guardian angel. It's a hut with a hay thatched roof stooping over all the sides as if to kiss the moist earth. Creepers around have overpowered the time and have ornamented the hut painlessly with their blue gigantic flowers.

She has notions of the place she is destined by her Creator to go. She, though doesn't know of her Creator and not even of His existence, knows what He wants her to wish, to do and to think. But she can hardly wish, do or think, because she is only a character, a  closely controlled kite or an overwhelmed, yet tethered goat. She might be unnatural, natural, supernatural, or a real human being---but only that what her Creator wants her to be.

Now her Creator wants her to go there, there to the woods dark and deep, but all alone. She might or might not feel frightened, she would or wouldn't reach there. But she must go, and she knows that well.

For a change, her Creator asks me for a suggestion, "Whether she should go there?"

"Yes, definitely!," I reply, "she might find her solace there."

I smile. I can guess only that much. Power is in His hands, we know that. We are all mere spectators. We too are destined, destined to be spectators. But we can sometimes interfere, of course, like chorus, auspicious or doomed. I decide to be silent and much more concentrated.  Her Creator is much confident than I thought He would be. He directs and she starts.

Now I find that I lack concentration. You remember? I said that she might find her solace there. Aren't you surprised! Who can imagine what waits for her there to be her solace? Who waits for her to be her solace? Can you? Let's ask her Creator.

"Nothing," He replies, "her path is her destiny. There might or might not be an end to her story. She might or might not find the place she is going to. But she can't stop. I'll make her continue her journey." He smiles cunningly.

Is this fair? I invite you. Come let's go after her. Let's get into her story and make it interesting. Let's make much more diversions and add suspense to her story, lest we will sleep.