Let me tell you a small story, he had said. The Storyteller always had a way with words. Oh, boy I’ll tell you, there were a lot of words, so many words, that a sloth would wake up just to tell him to shut up. But hey, he was the story teller. He was just doing his job. Once he had lit his pipe and settled down by the fire, he began his tale.
“Once upon a time, long ago in a far far far away and distant land there lived a man called John Smith.”
“I know a man named John Smith!” interrupted the tavern owner. ”Chap used to drop by a couple of years ago, but he stopped coming.”
“Yea! Now that you’ve mentioned it I think I remember him. Wasn’t he the guy who went to the mountains and never came back?” piped in an old scoot.
“Nay, twast not him. John Smith was the lumber jack from the north…” and an argument broke out. John Smith the knight, John Smith the knave, John Smith the tailor, John Smith the warlock. All of them wanted to know a John Smith, and oddly enough, everyone did.
“Quiet! The story hasn’t even begun.” The Storyteller was evidently grumpy about being interrupted.
“It was a dark and cold stormy night much like this one. John was travelling on his horse to serfdom.”
“Aaha! So he was a knight!” shouted a man from the back.
“Any more guesses, and nobody gets the coins. Only once I finish the story do you guess who is John Smith. Let me finish. Now, it was unlike John to have travelled so far out from his native land. He was a humble and straight forward man. He kept himself to pretty much himself and lived happily ever after.”
The Storyteller took a long sip from his pitcher. There was a loud murmur growing. That was the story? Was that all of the story? No twists, no romance, no heroism, hell, there wasn’t any story either!
“… but then that’s where the story starts…..
There was a girl, like always. He liked the girl very much and though she wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the town, there was something about her. An innocence, a brilliance, a glow, a joyousness that was alluring, she was simply the happiest person he had ever seen in the world! She radiated happiness, she personified the word joy, she was an ode to joy one can say. But, and there always is a ‘but’ I tell you. More like where there’s smoke there’s fire. Have I told you this one time when there was this lame fox and blind cat and they …”
“You have, now are you going to finish this story?” interrupted the tavern owner.
“Yes yes, must complete this first. Now John had a problem. He felt happy when he saw her. He felt carefree when he looked into her eyes. He felt alive, those few moments when someone feels truly alive, were when he was with her. But as much as he felt love for her in his heart, he couldn’t show it! His face had never known emotions. He couldn’t smile, he couldn’t frown, he couldn’t laugh, nor could he cry! He was cursed by birth and his emotion never got past his heart and has never been seen. This was a new town and people thought that he was dangerous for he couldn’t show them his emotions. She also started to move away from him. He did not want to lose her and so one fine day he went to an EMO (Emotion, Meme and Osomness) development center. The people there were shocked to face such a mighty task but one man never deterred. He was the head of the center, a man names Svengali. He taught him a new technique he had been developing know as the EmoticonsTM. He had been heavily banked on by nobles and royals for they wanted to fake emotions in letters to their wives in order to be with their mistresses. He taught him how to smile :-), frown :-(, stick his tongue out :-P, show his shark teeth (^^^), be pathetically cute like a Meowth :-3, laugh like the Devil 3:-), but he could never learn how to show his emotions in real life and as he was an honest man, he never wanted to “con people using his emotions” through EmoticonsTM. Svengali tried to torture emotions into John but John was unbreakable to his misfortune. And that my friends, is the true story of John Smith.”
Silence ensued as the Storyteller rose to leave. No one knew who was John Smith and no one ever will.
Epilogue:
In the darkest hour of the darkest night, John the Storyteller sat there at the edge of the sunset, weeping. In his right hand was a letter. It was from her. He wept and wept till he could weep no more. He couldn’t show the woman he loved his emotions for her, even through the use of EmoticonsTM. A beautiful angel came to him, and asked him, “Why r u crying?” and it was then he realized that he could cry and the tears of depression turned into tears of joy, and angel became his love and he showered upon her all the pent up joy and they lived happily ever after :').
THE END
Inspiration courtesy: Nananananaaaaana. ß This was a death wish. I will be writing my will soon.
