Thursday, July 19, 2007

One hundred Years of Solitude

The man was passing the streets of vanity. The gloomy houses and quiet streets and alleys plunged their monstrous , sharp nails in his painful heart .As he was passing , he felt alienation to this land and it`s creations .This sense had chained the door of his heart and did not let the light of hope come out . He looked at the green and vast sky but did not see any thing but the grayish shades of the dark clouds .What ever he looked he could not catch the brilliant sun or its light. He found the other men as the hard stones that nothing could melt their cruel heart .when he was growing this negative thought, he felt that nostalgia was strangling him. It was for a long time that nostalgia had nested his heart and made the deep hole of sorrow and dread in his weak body. He never found any synonym for the word of life but pain and solitude .He had stepped up the ladder of modern life like all of his civilized fellow citizens but it seemed to him the foolish action on the earth. One hundred years of solitude had made him a noble and crazy philosopher and a matured stone. No song could pierce in his solid soul but the song of vanity .Although he had experienced power, wealth and health; he felt that he had not touched the real and truth of life. He had not been able to find a security house and a god among all of the chaotic of the luxurious world .He wanted to find something for worshiping but whatever he had worshiped before, seemed to be mirage. How well the God has said that the man is ignorant until the dooms day. Don’t you believe this?

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