Issac’s Riddle- Where Lies your Belief?

Issac loved to create. A story, a painting, a mosaic, a shoe, anything at all! Little did he know his mad creations would lead to this day. Every inventor went through stages of difficulties. With every passing stage, the creations got better. Issac’s passion led him to the stage of perfection.


Every time he created something he slipped into a trance. It was like passing through a wormhole and travelling into another dimension and bringing something back from there to the present. Every time he wrote, he never lifted his hand off the paper because he just couldn’t let himself detach from his creation, until the task was done. All his words and sentences were always connected. He didn’t want to risk losing his trance by separating the ink from the paper.


Today, however, Issac struggled to get over the unrealistic turn of events. A sweat broke on his forehead as he kept looking at the window in his room, muttering non-sense. This wasn’t happening, this just couldn’t! Was it humanely possible to achieve what he achieved? He opened the yellow scroll he wrote on, the last time he entered a trance. It surprised him how every small detail of his last story had actually manifested itself into reality. Just like his protagonist, he had seen the yellow cat on the street, playing with the beggar. The details of the beggar were seemingly accurate. A woman with the cologne that smelt like roses passed him by at the exact same time she was supposed to and various other things happened just like he had imagined!


Could a mind be so evolved so as to manifest an idea into reality? Was dedication to creativity the key to advanced human intelligence? Is that how God created the universe? Maybe this is the stage of perfection!
Issac wiped the sweat off his forehead but couldn’t stop thinking about the end of his story. At the end of his story, the protagonist would jump off the window, ending his life.


His mind was conflicted. He would never jump off a window. He was afraid of death; curious but afraid, especially now that death looked him in the eye.
However, a little voice inside him said, “Jump Issac! Jump out the window. Your achievement will be validated only if you jump. Wouldn’t you die with a smile on your face for having achieved something no one ever did? Don’t ward this off as coincidence; coincidence is never so precise! You are an artist, inventor, creator, if you don’t go to the extremes to discover the unknown, who will?”


Issac advanced towards the window and hesitated to look down. The last signal would be seeing a carriage with a white horse because that is what the protagonist saw before he died. It was very rare to see a carriage that was pulled by a white horse. Seeing it would thus clear the situation out, once and for all.


He soon heard the sound of a carriage advancing from the far end of the road. He sat down on his window pane, avoiding looking at the carriage for as long as possible.
As the carriage approached, he looked at it, reluctantly. The final word had come.


He laughed out loud like a mad man as he saw the horses were brown. Half the street now looked up at him in amazement.


Five minutes unto the insane laughter, he felt warm blood oozing out of his head. His ears heard nothing but a loud buzz, as he blacked out. The whole street gasped in horror at the fallen mad man, surrounded by a pool of blood.
Issac’s brain was slowly shutting down to the surrounding clutter. He opened his eyes for one last time and a smile was etched across his face as he saw a carriage with a white horse advancing towards him from the other end of the road.


While the rest of us are just desperate to make a difference, he actually did.


But then again, what would you like to believe? Was there really a white horse, or was it merely the dying hallucination of an extra ordinarily creative mind?



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