the roots

he stood there at the bottom of the stairs, looking up the winding staircases. he held the beam for support and narrow staircase beckoned him to climb them. his ears were filled with laughter, kids laughing and talking excitedly .. slowly it faded away. it came from a time past and returned there. isnt it true that every place you stay there is something of the place that becomes a part of you, which is disturbed into existence only when you go back there.

the grey colors on the walls had stood the test of time. he climbed up slowly in the midst of a strange quietness. it was late in the afternoon. warm. humid. suddenly images of chaos and people jostling each other and urgent screams filled his brain. it faded away quickly, faster than the receding waves on the beach. did it feel the same, did it still mean something or was the search for meaning futile it its task he thought.

its not fair, this is just not fair she pleaded looking at them. her eyes rested on him finally hoping that he would speak up for her. but he did not flinch, his eyes looked right back at her. its a fight of principles he thought and he cannot give it up. the search for answer lies not in a moment of weakness but in the moment of truth. he believed this to that moment, even painfully disagreeing with someone he long admired. it was decided. everybody left, except for her and him. standing there unmoved she looked at him boring into his mind to find a rational explanation. you didnt have to do this, he is our friend she implored. he is he agreed, but maybe he was and he definitely he is not one of us. does friendship mean more than principles he asked her. her eyes were fixed on the distant trees on the horizon, yes she said looking back at him just as my love for you means more than any principles in this world.