That rugged and withered wooden door…it stood in front of me as it greeted my somber mask… A mask, my soul wore with pride.
My hand reached out for the door knob and rested at it for a while.
I stared at my hand….with eyes hollow enough to engulf the world around me.
Paying my due respects to the time I wasted for this inane ritual, I tightened my grip and opened the door…. closing my eyes, for…I expected to meet a sharp and piercing glare.
But… Rather…I was welcomed by ostracizing darkness.
I stepped inside the room, unknown to the world that lay ahead.
My fear would have paid the merchants well… The room lit up, as bright as a jovial day… as soon as I stepped in.
I was in the middle of a sea of books… both, bulky and thin.
Yes… It was a library… except, this one wasn’t preaching me some modern science. They called it, “The library of life”.
A book called me out. It was the frailest of them all… Its cover was as dark as nothing.
I pulled it out. The cover refused to share an essence to the wisdom ahead, hence… tempting me to dive into the book.
I followed suit, out of grave curiosity.
A cruel flash of light fell on my eyes, forcing me to turn my face away.
The mystic gleam, soon, faded away… and, I… I dared to look at the only page.
It was, but, a mirror.
Engraved at the top, was a sentence that must always echo in my head…
“For once, you may challenge the facts, but the wise don’t question ordeal.”
That was the greatest book of them all.
It compelled me to read myself.