He walked his walk of delight. There was sky to mend and stars to scrub and shine. The wind needed to unwind too, and needed some zest. The earth was feeling crushed and had requested a foot-rub. The trees were waiting to stretch their legs and settle down for a while. There was so much to do. He had requested the birds and they were going to sing a lullaby.
He was preparing when he heard a laughter. They were laughing as they did everyday.
“What are you doing, nutter?” asked someone.
“Nothing,” he replied as he started to climb and tried reaching the sky. He was sure in the next two steps he would.
“That’s an ordinary ladder, you idiot,” said one of them, “you are gonna fall, and our night would be ruined taking you to hospital again.”
Though he pitied them, he couldn’t bother with trifles of explaining that he knew would go futile. What was ordinary? ‘Everything’ is what these mentally normal people thought. To him, however, the word was transparent. When you blow everything out of proportion, you see the extra-ordinary. And that should be the only way to see, he always taught.
“I am tired of working for these cabbages,” said another of those, and his friends laughed at what they thought was a joke, “This mental asylum job is eating me away.”
He couldn’t care for what these people said. The sky and the stars were waiting for him. Birds had brought their script. Wind and trees were giving an ugly eye. He hurried and got back to work as he dreamt of a new world. A world where everybody saw things the way he did. In that world he would still be kind, and would make a special-home for ‘mentally normal’ people who still chose to be blind.