I have an aim, a dream to reach the highest of mountains, highest of all. I want to drink that first drop of dew that tastes like heaven’s water ,like God’s tear. And I want to relish it as I heave sigh. I am warrior in making. Everyday I run barefooted across the streets till my feet bleed, I bathe with molten lava. Everyday I cross hurdles; I face shower of arrows and drizzle of bullets. And it is not that I am not afraid, I am. I am more afraid than I have ever been but the prize lures me, that sweet dew at the top of that echoing mountain.

For once I stand, I wait and I see no one. I think for once that I have no competition, but I am wrong, others are running too. All are greedy for the prize. And they are running too fast , they are too swift to be seen. And I stand there hoping that someone someplace can only just feel the wind as I run across him, he can only smell my scent by not see me . I want to be fast , I want  to win. 

I shall become great when I drink that nectar of heaven. I shall become invincible; I shall become a little closer to God, a little near to him. But till then I have to run, run barefooted till my feet bleed, till my scent remains and my soul and body reaches the top of the mountain. I shall become immortal the moment I quench my thirst.



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