You’re Destined to Succeed, and You Don’t Know It
Says the Clay Soil
Somewhere in an abandoned landscape, I was lying there without moving.
It was a vast space filled with many like me. We were there and had no idea what we would become. The sky was clear in front of us most of the time, but some days, we saw white clouds; we saw them turn dark, filled with sparkling that could set trees on fire.
But some days, the sky was clear again, and we saw many stars and, oh yes, the moon.
The moon was a tricky one, just like the clouds, but it always had the same pattern. It used to grow and become full, then hide for many days. Then again, it grew, became full, and then hid for many days.
But clouds were always unique.
For some seconds, they were like giant elephants, but then, at the second moment, they turned into giant volcanoes. Oh! What those moments were–something breathtaking and always worth remembering.
People rarely came, but when they came, they always took some of us, not knowing we were going with them.
But on the days of those dark clouds pouring down, people had a hard time avoiding us. And they hated it; the way we attached to them was never favourable to them. But we never did it on purpose; we can’t help it. I can’t help it.
Still, some people enjoyed having us on them, which felt good.
It was good to know that, after all, we were not bad; I was not bad. It’s just the way people prefer things. It’s just the way people accept what they like and what they don’t.
However, we never showed any grudge against them. Not only them but everyone.
Whether cows offloading shit on us from their back, tigers killing a deer and spreading blood everywhere, or people hitting shovels on us and lying one of theirs.
Instead of anger or bitterness, we showed kindness. We showed that grass can always grow if you let it, and people you don’t like can become friends if they are lost, just like you.
In that landscape, it’s all we got.
We were there decades or centuries past. I saw every war, every movement, and every death that has ever occurred. I don’t know how, but I think life underneath me connected me to all the places.
So, just like that, I was spending my time. I had no idea what I would become; all I knew was that I would always be there, as I had always been.
But then, one day, someone came and took me with him.
I wasn’t able to see anything; it was dark, yet I was able to sense the movements. I was able to feel his breath.
I was scared; I had no idea, I couldn’t do anything.
So, I just waited. Not for long, but to see again, I had to wait. This man, I believe, was not in a hurry; he took his time to finally take me out and put me down somewhere I could feel just my own.
My tribe was happy to see me, and I was seeing them.
I saw some from my tribe on a round wheel. The man was spinning it and shaping them into something. They were wet already, but during the process, he continuously dipped his hand into the water and touched them.
My tribe explained to me that the man comes there each day, takes some of us on that wheel, and spins us into something different.
I was surprised to know that. I had no idea whether I should feel excitement or I should fear it because I was happy with how I was.
The idea of change seemed strange. So, yes, I was scared, and so did the others just like me.
Each day, when the sun came, I just prayed that he wouldn’t take me. And each night, when the man went back to where I didn’t know he came from, I showed gratitude he didn’t take me. But I felt bad for the ones he did.
However, strangely, when I saw my tribe on the wheel, they seemed to be having no hard time. I could tell from their facial expressions.
But the ones who were with me always had doubts. So, I guess I had to believe them and continue praying that he would not take me. But how long can you celebrate your freedom? One day, you need to face what you’ve been born to face.
And so the day came, and the man took me from my tribe.
He lifted me up in his palms and splashed against the wheel so hard that I yelled for my back, which hurt.
Anger was there in me; I wanted to move from there, but I had no luck. I couldn’t do it. And I have no idea why. That man finally spun the wheel with his leg and touched his wet fingers on me.
It tickled. In no way I expected that, but it tickled, and I felt strange.
My anger was losing my grip, and all I could see was the world spinning round and round before me. The tickles were still there; it kind of made me laugh. It was strange, to be honest. I was scared, then hurt, and finally spinning and becoming something.
I was changing my usual aspect. That man was transforming me into something I had no idea.
But all of a sudden, that man did something wrong. And I lost the grip of what he was making me into. Yet, he didn’t quit and tried again.
Somehow, that day, things were not working quite right for him.
He kept making mistakes and breaking me into nothing. The whole day, he tried but had no luck. Finally, he went back, leaving me on the wheel, feeling sad.
There on the wheel, I wondered what wrong have I done so he couldn’t finish me. Am I too wet? Or not the kind that can become something? I doubted the whole night, wondering tomorrow, this man would take me back from where he had brought me first.
I was sad knowing that because now I wanted to become something. I was not afraid of change, but I was afraid of not becoming something.
That night was the worst night I ever happened to face. Or perhaps I didn’t remember the previous ones if I had.
The next day, the man came early and went to my tribe stored in the corner of the room. He picked up someone, and my nightmare came true. Slowly, he was coming towards me. My breath was getting shallow.
I closed my eyes, but then, something else happened. Instead of taking me out of the wheel, he put my tribe’s one with me and splashed some water on us.
He started spinning us together. I didn’t understand why, but I was happy that he didn’t lose hope in me. Slowly with his delicate fingers and way of moving them, we were becoming something.
Something we could have never imagined back there in the abandoned landscape.
For an hour, he spun, and then, we finally became something. Something with depth and huge diameter, I felt we could hold something in us.
I was glad I was something, but we were not over yet. He carefully took us out of the wheel and put us near the same of us. We stayed there for a couple of days, and then he put us inside a hot, burning place.
It was hot, and so blazing that one couldn’t comprehend. Still, we remained and endured all the hurt because, somewhere, it was making us strong. Our wet aspect finally became solid, something ready to hold.
After being days in that burning place, he took us out of it, and a lady started doing something colourful for us.
I believe she was giving us a good look. It was making us beautiful in all aspects. When we were done, the man put us behind a thing full of us. Then, that thing started moving as if we were going somewhere.
After a while, we reached an open place, where I saw my tribe in different shapes.
They look happy. And after seeing me, they were more happy. He placed us carefully and sat in the open.
Different people were coming to him, talking to him, giving him something, and he was handling one of us to them. Then suddenly, a beautiful white woman pointed at me. They talked for a while, and he handed me into her soft hands.
It felt great to feel the touch of beautiful and soft hands.
I could feel she was moving and we were going away from that man. Soon, we reached a beautiful place, where she put me down and went to bring something.
She came back with some of my tribe that were not strong and in a different shape. They were just the usual, not wet, but dry. She unloaded them into me, and it felt really amazing to have some of my own.
Then, she brought some flowers and put them inside us.
She watered them and put us on the side of the window facing a great beautiful river.
She watered us every day, and her flower bloomed with great dignity and beauty. Some days, we talked about the flower and my tribe.
Days passed, and the flowers lost their charm; so came the new one. In this way, many years passed, and one day suddenly, out of nothing, we lost our strength. We broke into two pieces.
It felt really strange to feel myself into two selves. But that is what it was.
Soon, she threw us out, where I met my tribe again. They were soft, but I was hard, at least for some days, and when the rain came, I transformed back into my usual self.
My original self.
And so, somewhere in an abandoned landscape, I was lying there without moving.
Thank you so much for reading this short story. I hope you like it.
It’s a story of clay soil and how it transforms into a beautiful flower pot. But can you interpret what it’s trying to unfold? Can you relate how it’s similar to our human lives? And can you learn what it has to teach us about success and how we can get it?
Share your views; I’d be more than happy to read them.
Till then,
Be a humble human.
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Good read🌿