Heavy rainfall outside was making that night inevitable for me. At night time duty, I was usual, willingful, abandoned human soul on that area, without any doubt or any kind of sympathetically confusion. No one on this earth was living then to accompany me on my studio. Only me and my chatting chats with unknown people who always tried to love me, as much as they could, sometimes they were in love with me, sometimes I was accused to be the heart breaker or relationship breaker, sometimes I had been accused for sending political secret messages, it was turned into accustomed usual racism to me. It never mattered here, how did we chatters look like, stylish or not, ugly or beautiful, short or tall, black or white, highly educated or not. Sometimes for an experiment we tried to involve our listeners, beggars or riches, we just needed any human that can talk and spend a quality time with us.
Nevertheless, sometimes it was simple amusement for the people or sometimes it was another disaster because it was really hard to handle the attachment they create, out of misery or kindness. However, I got my training from my hometown then took further training from abroad and then I moved to rural forest to enjoy myself with my experiences, I was trying to spread my ideology, wanted to attract more attention of human kinds. I was not alone there, my other colleagues who loved being in the forest, also working with me. My professional career as a radio jockey, what other normal people know as an RJ, really showed me, my part of heat wave and cold wave. As stormy as it could be, I survived. My lonesome never killed me because others were never left me. Unknown or known, our popularity needed to moved on or else we would have been died by the crazy people or some normal human who called them fans. I always kept my distance from them, they made me uncomfortable, some were obnoxiously abnormal, some were obnoxiously confused or some were tried to date or marry us, which were against our will, sometimes they joined in police services or armies to threatened us to got date or married with them. I got so many difficulties in my whole career but still I loved this career. It made me proud of myself sometimes that girls tried to give me suicidal threats when I was leaving my hometown for this rural jungle. What could I done, I couldn't allow myself of doing so, taking advantage of my crazy fans. We were arranged parties, charities, job opportunities as far as we could do for our crazy fans.
The payments offered to RJs are not worthy enough for livings. Government loved us but never helped us to increase our salaries, facilities, overseas education as a professional rjs or any kind of subsidies. No insurance policies, no loan facilities, no police securities, no training facilities with overseas artists or anything. We tried our own, tried to train ourselves as a voice artist by doing commecials, dubbing projects like cartoons or lending voices in audiobooks . Young smart students were encouraged to initiate in the radio industries but the hard work they need to do as a part timer with lousy payments , they lost the interest sooner than we could imagined. I got bored and frustrated by all the difficulties and hardships, I had been through, every time something new, that's why, I moved outside the town, took the rural jungle to mingle with my audiences and animals. Meanwhile, it was a late night schedule for me, I was doing the late night shows because I loved it, no one cared for, I lived it that way. The weather was too cold for me, I needed a cup of hot chocolate with a hint of coffee but alas, there was no one. We didn't keep any servants or cooks in the office because it was expensive. We worked for money, so, as less waste as we could do was better for us. I went to make my coffee and played a long playlist on radio.
It was stormy night, so, no one was supposed to be there to listen, but still as we had learned. I made my coffee but there was no sugar or chocolate or marshmallows, my bad luck. I couldn't recall when I fell on sleeping but a whisper made me awake. I hurriedly looked around a bit but nothing. Then again I heard the whisper, it was coming from my microphone. I thought at first, I might be noxious with the bad weather that's why, I was hallucinating or having some kinds of phobia but no. It really was my microphone, it was asking me about my whereabouts, how was I, feeling drenched or okay, it seemed to me I was hearing a hymn. So, gentle, soft and sophisticated, worried voice hymning to me at middle of the night. It was exactly a three o'clock. I lost my voice for the fast time, couldn't spoke out, felting nausea then the voice started to cry. She was hurt by my ignorance of her existence and being confusedly afraid about her. Then I overcame my fear and ask about her, she said she was died in the forest a long time ago, she was waiting for her lover when thunder struck her to death but her lover thought that she run away with another guy, so, he got married with a beautiful rich girl. Our office was built on her dead body that's why she couldn't leave that place. When she saw me working at night, she took the opportunity to talk with me. She loved the way I talked alone hours after hours but no one to chat with me only messages to reply. After a long conversation with her, I was surprised that I could not realised how was the time passed by. I never spent any good time with any of my audiences or anyone. After that one night stand with my new fanatic who I was named later, my hymn, my very own hymning whisperer who only could and me too allowed only her to talk with me.