Birds soaring in the sky, a new beginning with a new day. Strong winds and cold gusts were lifting the beautiful yellow and half-green fallen leaves from the ground, creating the sharp, skittering sound of dry foliage. On the road, vehicles were passing by slowly.
In front of the road stood a large house, its bright, chestnut-colored door half-open, swaying gently with the gusts of wind.
Some dry leaves and dust drifted inside the door with the gusts of wind, the big truck with a yellow interior came to a stop in front.
A person with a yellow cap placed a large box in front of the house door, rang the doorbell a few times, and walked away.
A large window through which sunbeams and glistening dust particles could be clearly seen; bright rays of sunlight were falling on the white floor. Mr. R. Gatevolt was holding a newspaper in his hands. Sitting in his rocking chair, he was shaking the newspaper when Mr. Ross heard the sound of the doorbell, and folding the paper, he slammed it down on the nearby table.
He walked towards the door, brushing through the rays of light streaming in from the window, which causes the glistening dust particles to swirl rapidly in every direction.
Cracked the knuckles, he reached the door and fully opened the already partially-opened entrance.
A large box was there. He attempts to lift it with both hands; it is quite heavy, so he manages to slide it inside and takes it into his room.
Taking a sharp object in his hand, he cuts the tape on the corners of the box. With his hands, he peels away the tape and opens the box, finding it filled with many lovely, center-filled Oranges.
A folded piece of paper rested on top of them. Mr. Ross picks up the paper and unfolds it.
It contained a hospital address in another state, along with a short message for him: "Time is very short, would you like to come and meet them one last time?" After reading this, he tries to steady his breathing and quickly begins preparing for his journey.
This journey won't be very long for him, but he knows he is returning to Mexico after a very long time, nearly seven years. The box that arrived at his house this morning was from a friend, and he has now begun his journey to visit his best friend, Mr. Nair. There is a significant age gap between him and Mr. Ross, as Mr. Nair is an elderly man in his 70s.
About ten years ago, during a long holiday, Mr. Ross was in Norway. While traveling in his car there, he unexpectedly met an elderly gentleman named Mr. Nair. Perhaps after that meeting, his life changed. Mr. Nair is an honored, intelligent and most kind person, he honoured their friendship by helping Ross overcome his biggest problems and always standing by him.
He knew how to nurture a friendship and why not. After all, he was an experienced and witty elderly man. This friendship had broken and reshaped Mr. Ross's perspective many times inspired him to see the world through his own way. He never wanted Mr. Ross to become a part of that 'rat race,' neither through his actions nor his mindset.
By Monday evening, he had arrived right outside the hospital—his coat buttons undone, his hair disheveled, and looking a bit anxious. The sky behind the hospital building was a brilliant orange, and the shadow of the massive structure stretched across a large part of the ground.
Taking a deep breath, he entered the hospital. Mr. Nair’s family members were there and recognized him; without exchanging many words, they began leading him toward Mr. Nair. Their faces conveyed that they felt a little relieved to see Mr. Ross, as they had been waiting for him.
Entering Hospital Room number 0111 by pushing the glass door, he stepped inside. The monitor placed by the bed beeped every second. Mr. Nair was lying on the bed, his slightly disheveled white hair fluttering in the breeze. Seeing him, he smiled; Mr. Ross came close and stood silently by his side. Upon looking at him, he didn't appear critically ill; his eyes held the same sharpness, and his face radiated the same glow that Mr. Ross had seen ten years ago.
“You are exactly the same, you haven't changed at all,” Ross said, bowing his head slightly.
“Yes, I am fine, just the same as I was, except for a few more wrinkles on my face,” he replied with a simple smile.
"Now that you've arrived, I feel much better; I was waiting for my oldest friend," he said, looking at Ross's face quite closely. "To be honest, you look more ill than I do; you need some rest."
"No, no, I'm fine. I don't want to go anywhere," Ross replied.
They sat there for a while. From outside the door, Mr. Nair's family members could see them; both of them seemed a bit happy, and they even started joking and laughing together.
"Ross, do you remember when you were in Norway for the first time, I laughed so much remembering that in those days, despite having no major problems, you used to be depressed, quiet, and would roam alone on the roads in your car," Mr. Nair said, looking towards Mr. Ross.
Mr. Ross nodded and said, "Yes, I was quite foolish in those days. Two days after arriving in Norway, I went out for a drive in a bad mood on those beautiful roads one evening. That greenery, the beautiful sky, and the fresh air…”
"You used to remember your old childhood days to escape from your troubles. When you saw me, you brought the car towards me; the car's headlights were shining on my face,
The light was so intense that I couldn't see anything for a while, and I thought a robber was coming to rob me," he said, laughing
"And then we had a long conversation. In those days, I used to hesitate to share my troubles with anyone, keeping them buried within, but you listened to everything I had to say every single detail. Ross poured his heart out with laughter.
"And when it started getting night, and I was thinking about heading back to my hotel, you said something very profound to me. You made me realize something; you said that when I set out in my car in Norway to wander without a purpose, I didn't know which way I would go. I was just wandering carefree, without any intention, in my own freedom. And then we met, and I felt so good—I hope you did too," Mr. Ross said.
Mr. Nair shook his head vigorously from left to right, smiling and denying it, "No, not at all."
"You had told me that if I had changed even a single path, or stopped anywhere for even a moment, we would never have become friends. How true that was," Mr. Ross said, looking at Mr. Nair.
He was able to understand this quite well today.
"And I wouldn't be here today to see you if I had turned my car onto any other road that day. You were right. When we look back, we cannot change those things, yet how perfectly they unfolded. You said this isn't just about a good friend; it’s about every aspect of life. We don't know, and today, who we are—we can only realize then how right everything that happened was."
"You told me this so I wouldn't dwell on my childhood days too much, and so I could understand that life flows in a beautiful stream, and everything is a part of it," Mr. Ross said.
He had his head tilted slightly upwards; his eyes and the smile on his face were evidence that he had lived this.
"Oh Ross, you remember everything! Then surely you must also remember how we used to collect so many colorful, shiny, large stones in the evenings, and how you would break the stones to craft small sculptures. They were quite good, you had made quite a lot of them. That was very meticulous work, something only a fine, creative person could do. I know you wanted to take them with you, but you forgot. And now, ten years later, today you have returned," Mr. Nair said.
Mr. Ross stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall, lost in deep thought. Perhaps he was thinking about the old days, trying to remember what those stone artifacts looked like.
Mr. Nair was watching him. "There were so many of them—enough to fill a box," Mr. Nair said.
"Oh no," Mr. Ross said, placing both hands on his head. " I was wondering how a box of oranges could be so heavy," he said with a smile.
"Mr. Nair, I hope you recover very soon and return safely to your home in Norway," he said. He gently touched his hand to his own ear.
"It doesn't make much of a difference," Mr. Nair said, folding his hands and looking at Ross.
"Ross, would you like to hear a story?"
"A story after such a long time, after so many years... absolutely," Mr. Ross said.
"In a city, there was a very kind person. I don't remember his name," he said, "my memory has become weak."
"No problem," Mr. Ross said with a simple smile.
"That man belonged to a very strange tradition; they would throw a huge party —a very big party decorated with many blue and white lights and large golden lights. The party featured chandeliers shining like diamonds, plenty of delicious food, and glittering decorations.”
He gave many people the opportunity to attend his party. To him, the crowd of people was all the same, and throughout the party, he looked after every individual personally. Truth is, he gave his hundred percent, his absolute best. But people would still find some flaw; by the end of the party, they would inevitably have something to complain about. They could never see that the man had given his best.
When the party ended, that person would approach every single individual and give them a necklace of shining diamonds—diamonds so rare and expensive that not a single one from that necklace could be purchased with any amount of wealth. That person would personally place that necklace on every single person who attended the party.
Those white, glowing diamonds were so rare, yet it seemed as if people didn't understand their value, or as if they meant nothing to them. Some people would even throw them into the trash bin while leaving the party; for others, the diamond necklace would break during the party.
The truth was that very few people at that party truly understood their worth. I don't know why they did that.
After the party ended, the man would clean up every single thing with his own hands, removing every decoration he had set up himself. Like he had arranged every little thing for the party with his own hands. He gave his best without any expectation of whether people would praise him or like it. Yet, most people would leave in misery, complaining about the magnificent arrangements.
During the party, some people were talking about a broken toenail or a slight pain in their legs. Someone was sad because their elbow was scraped. Some remained anxious, and others were sad for no reason at all.
Once the party was over and everyone returned home, almost every individual found some flaw, complaining, "You didn't do this that much right," or "it's feels something lacking in that aspect," or "You could have made this a little better.”
“ Actually, we did not find what we came here expecting,”
While leaving the party, he used to make such complaints to that person.
Mr. Nair was looking up at the ceiling, where a few rays of the evening's orange sunlight were visible.
"That man, after all, he gives everything for people; for a party, he would work with such love," he said.
Mr. Ross smiles simply, hands behind his back, leaning slightly toward Mr. Nair for a few moments. "So, how was the party for you?" Mr. Ross aske
d, looking into Mr. Nair’s eyes.
The beeping sound of the nearby monitor starts to change.