Zaid sat there in complete silence. Now that it was all dark, he couldn't see anything at all. Unbeknownst to him, due to an error, his Sony Walkman had also fallen off, but Zaid was too focused on meditation to notice. The cave was modest, with a barren and surprisingly clean floor and sizeable dimensions, allowing it to house an adult comfortably.
Zaid went deep into meditation. As soon as he started, he could concentrate for an hour with no thoughts interrupting him. Time ticked by, and so did his patience. Training alongside the monks for the past few weeks had helped Zaid improve his mental fortitude, but it was still not adequate for him to hold on to his nerves in a dark, not-so-dingy cave. Hearing about the full ten-hour meditation didn't help either.
Day 1 was about getting through the initial challenges, concentrating on meditating, and isolating oneself from all exterior thoughts. Zaid, being someone who never gave up on things, tried his best and somehow managed to get through the day. How would he know what day it was? It didn't even matter to him.
He couldn't care less about the time or how much time had passed. He didn't even feel the need to relieve himself because, for some odd reason, he felt no hunger or call from nature. Furthermore, he thought it was odd but said, "Guess I am being freed from this mortal shell, huh," and rolled with it.
Thinking hard and thinking things through given his circumstances was the last thing he wanted. He just wanted to get through this because the promised new life awaited him. As he sat there, he remembered the words Shu had said to him before closing the lid on his face: "A loud thud akin to a wave crashing, or perhaps more like a rock jolted from above, or if you have witnessed a seismic event, maybe it will be that. When you hear or feel something like that, that's when you open your eyes and don't forget to breathe and take it all in, hehe."
"Weird way to say the time would be up, but I guess I'll roll with it, eh," Zaid said, replying to what he had said earlier in his head. Zaid wasn't wishing for newfound superpowers, nor for superhuman physical attributes. Those weren't his priorities.
All he hoped for was that when the damn lid opened again, he'd be a new man and start seeing the world, his fragile shot at life, and all its amenities differently. He wanted to find a purpose, something strong, something concrete to live for, to die for! That's all he ever wanted—a strong core purpose to live this life, not the monotonous sadness he went through every day, slaving away.
Day 2 kicked in for Zaid, and he was doing fairly well for someone who you'd think would have crumbled. He was meditating, and while he had filtered out all thoughts, occasionally his mind would wander to things he hadn't thought about in a long time. "I wonder how Leila is going on about her life right now," he said softly.
Leila was someone real close to Zaid, and they were best friends at some point back in college. But for Zaid, she started to become something more. One night in sophomore year, he confessed, but she rejected him. She didn't see him that way; she never truly did.
Zaid was heartbroken, and while Leila tried to restore their "friendship," Zaid never truly accepted it back. Those 3–4 years of pure bliss were all washed away. "Bet she's doing alright. She's like those mannequins at the mall, never showing anything until the end," he breathed softly. "Guess I got distracted right there," he continued his meditation, but he could feel his sanity drifting away a little. Being alone in the dark does mess you up a bit.
Day 3 kicked in, and so did the thoughts slowly plaguing his mind. He thought about his family. For Zaid, family was more of a burden than a gift, since he never really had one. "Is Aunt Clara still alive?" he said softly in his head.
Zaid was an orphan, thrashed into a roadside dumpster the day he was born. A kind man saw him, called the officials, and young Zaid was sent to the state's orphanage. He grew up there until he was 5, and then a couple swung by to take him to what was supposed to be his new home. Dad was an alcoholic who came home drunk, with his wife having to deal with his punches.
Four days after Zaid's admission to his new family, the dad landed a punch on him. That didn't end well for them, with charges pressed against the dad, and the mum returned to her family after dumping Zaid back at the orphanage. A couple more years passed until he was picked up by someone else.
One fine day, a lady with a long umbrella and freckles pointed at Zaid. "Do you like cookies, my dear?" she asked. "I do, especially the ones with chocolate. I love them," he replied. "What's your name, my dear?" "They call me Zaid. The old lady right there named me that. I don't know; I kinda like it." "That's a beautiful name, dear, truly beautiful," she said, sobbingly.
He was 7 when he moved in with Clara, a widow fantastic at cooking and especially baking. She was living off the pension money of her dead husband, a linesman lost at sea. The tragic day the ship sank, poor Clara couldn't even see him again because the incompetent sea cops couldn't retrieve his body. She spent her solemn days doing absolutely nothing. Being child-free can be a curse at times.
That's where Zaid came in. Zaid was what she could pour her love into—her everything. She got him schooled and into college. He was just a brilliant student overall, but their bond got fragile over the years. Zaid wanted freedom, while Clara was obsessed with keeping him close.
When he got an offer to work in LA, she locked him up in their basement! A wandering neighbour saw the whole ordeal, and yes, charges were pressed against her. The last vivid image Zaid had of Clara was of her sobbing, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. It hurts me to see you lose too." The charges were eventually dropped on accounts of poor mental health, but Zaid never went back to see his one and only family on this dusted earth.
Days passed by, and these overbearing thoughts wouldn't leave him be. He was a week in now, and only three days remained, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't know either way. Furthermore, he was struggling, struggling real bad.
For all his life, this was the only thing he had truly given his all. He was always the jack of all trades and a master of none. He always put minimal effort and got paid off for it, never put any effort into maintaining relationships or friends. Furthermore, he always felt like a serial loser.
That was one of his key motivations to restart his life. He was always a replacement, a person who was a placeholder, a water hose turned on when needed and then switched off. His life's greatest tragedy was that he couldn't wipe it all off. All he ever had was nothing.
"I wish to be different, so I must endure," he thought. For the first time in a long while, he broke down, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I wish this works out. I so much want this to work out," he said now in his head. He was starting to get hysterical.
The shadows, they, cannot conceptualize life as pure as his. They are meant to hide the ghouls and the wraiths of the bygone days away, so it gets to you. The darkness makes you lose your sanity. It did with Zaid, but his persistence for change wasn't throwing him under the bus.
His desire to change burns brighter than what the shadows had planned for him. A Loud Siren went off, startling Zaid, and thus the much-awaited day finally arrived. Zaid was weak mentally. His physical body had been all intact due to the weird nature of this mysterious cave. He was weak, and yet defeat was nowhere to be seen.
His desire to change had finally triumphed. That spirit which lurked within him came out victorious. The lid of the cave started opening, a gust of wind much like the ones which flow throughout the temperate. "I can smell it. It's the smell of daylight," proclaimed Zaid as he slowly started opening his eyes.
The daylight cut right through his retina, so he folded his hands, trying to shield them. He then took his first steps. His body had been rigid from maintaining the meditative posture, but not defunct. He stretched a bit at first before finally getting out of the cave.
To his surprise, as much as he could lay his now weak eyes on, all he saw was lush greenery. He was nowhere near freezing cold temperatures, where a breath tasks a lot from you. He was somewhere different. Some place totally different.
He could see gigantic trees, taller than the Empire State Building. Weird patterns bulging out on their leaves. He saw what looked like a squirrel to him but, to his surprise, had somewhat metal-like claws and could burrow. He saw it pop off, kissing that soil right in front of his eyes.
"Where am I? What's even going on?" were the questions creeping up on him, and yet he had a smile on his face. "Was this what I wanted?" he asked himself, that smile not fading a bit. "Alright, time to see where the heck I am," and he started wandering off into the lush and dense canopy.