The Lost Home

Once upon a time there were Guts and Glory. And there were Dream and Thought too. Together they all lived in a little house that survived on Hope and Vision because Money wasn't kind to them. Home had a heart for Money, but everyone else had a heart for Home. Today Home is happy, for Money is kind enough to him, but Guts, Glory, Dream, Thought, Hope and Vision are no where to be found. They're all missing. They vanished without a trail, and even Money with all its power and forms (Black and White), could not afford to help Home trace them back.

Their neighbour Time says, he had seen them going. One after another, silently in slow steps. It seemed as if they wanted to stay back and live it up to their names, but they were sad and disappointed. Although they left, but they were optimistic that Home would call them back. They had a belief that Home would not be able to live all alone with Money, and would definitely honour their decades of togetherness by calling them back. But Home betrayed them all, for he was happy in the company of Money. And they left, without leaving any trace. They offered no apologies and carried no differences, for they had accepted that their journey here was over and that they needed to find someone else like the old-Home. Time had seen this day coming, and wished them good luck in their journey ahead.

As they walked past and through innumerous Homes, looking for the one that could best accomodate them all, they wondered why their Home left them.

Guts: He was so full of vigor and confidence that he could do anything. I am still wondering how he started hesitating in life.

Glory: I made him taste his first victory infront of a hall-full of people. He had conquered the stage in his school, the game's field in his collge. And now wherever he participated, he returned empty-handed. He dissapointed me too.

Dream: When he was a child, he used to tell everyone that one day he would soar the skies and fly free in a Jet plane. He said it everyday, to every single person and today he remains struck in a traffic jam twice a day.

Thought: I still remember, for all his life he was so thoughtful. He always had a plan, something to think about. He wanted to do so much, but suddenly he became confused and dumb. He went silent, and his mental calculations ceased, as if he was paralysed. He could think of nothing more than his day's routine. He was struck.

Hope: But for the worst that ever happened, he forgot me too. Never in the past had he ever missed to call upon me when he was confused or struck. He would cling on to my finger and sail through the hard times. But for the past many years, he not for once summoned me. And I felt so alone there.

Vision: True that! But, even here, for as far as you tell I had a feeling that he would bounce back, for he was very clear with what he wanted to do in life. I knew his plans, his high aspirations and his road-maps, and all these years I had been waiting for him to stand-up again. It breaks me badly as I take each step away from him. Yet if he calls me someday, I'll be there for him.

Guts: Me too, I would love to see him do another feud and sing to some random girl.

Glory: I would help him win that lady if he would wish to seek my help.

Dream: I wish someday he looks up at the sky when he's struck in a jam and recall where he had wanted to be. If only he calls back, I'd take him there.

Thought: And I would clear his mind of all confusions, if he starts to think for what he once wanted to be.

Hope:  This time if he would cling to my finger, I'll grab his hand and steer him through.

"Papa! Everyday we're struck in this jam, when I grow up I'll become a pilot and drop you to office in my plane."

....and there they found their new HOME.