The Caveman
Love someone for who they are
There once lived a caveman, fond of his cave. He was quite fond of his surroundings, the rocks, the sweet smell of the marsh, the trees, leaves and the animals which often surrounded him.
He was mostly unknown to the concept of love, except for the fact that he took care of the squirrel which fell from the tree, always had shelter ready for birds during stormy nights and found peace while sleeping on the harsh ground of the cave.
Everything was fine until one day while fishing, he saw a rock so beautiful that he enchanted by its beauty, left the fishing rope in water and took that rock in his cave.
He kept the rock in center of his cave. All his friends, the animals gathered around the rock. It was a light blue rock with a semi transparent body. It seemed as if it had white glitters sprinkled in it. It seemed as if the whole world was embedded in that beautiful rock.
He named the rock 'galaxy'. He started taking care of the rock more than himself. He often forgot to eat and sleep while just staring at the rock.
One day, he decided to give a shape to the rock to make it more beautiful. He took another rock and with the intention to carve his 'galaxy' into shapes, he stroke it with the rock. First stroke, no effect. He kept on striking the rock, cautious enough to not break it into half. Gradually, the two rocks when struck together started creating sparks.
The caveman, lost in the process, kept on striking the rocks with one another until a dry leave kept beside it caught a spark and started to burn.
The fire slowly started to spread in the cave. The Caveman, unaware of this landed another strike, finally cutting 'galaxy' into a particular shape. But it was too late. His whole cave was on fire, his animals started to rush out of the cave. But the caveman was standing there, almost unaware that his place was burning. He was standing there in the middle of the cave, holding his 'galaxy' in his hands with the beautiful shape he had carved out on it.
Maybe this was the first time, he experienced love...
His only mistake was, to try and change what he loved. Maybe he should have kept loving it as it was. Maybe that could have lasted a bit longer.
About the Creator
Neelanchal Dhanuka
I love and hate my characters more than I hate people. Love to romanticize dark stories and Vica versa. You would soon see me in a film some day.
Long live Creativity.
Keep reading
More stories from Neelanchal Dhanuka and writers in Writers and other communities.
The Flutist
There was once a flutist Who regularly came on a street and started playing his flute. He sold flutes for living. The kids were amused when he came and started playing his flute. The environment around him seemed so light and peaceful while the flutist performed his art.
By Neelanchal Dhanukaabout a year ago in Writers
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (2)
So so amazing .i love your content and subscribed. Kindly reciprocate by subscribing to me also . thank you and keep it up
Greatly done.