THE PURPOSE

THE PURPOSE

He was walking his son back to home from school. The sky was bright with a few clouds flowing in with a mid summer breeze.

'Father' spoke the six year old breaking the strange silence hovering that afternoon.
'Yes?' The father asked.
'Why do we go to school?'
At first he smiled at his innocent question, remembering his own childhood. The son looked at him intently. A smile would not suffice, he realised.
'Well, all good people go to school!'
The child thought for a moment as he hopped over a few pebbles that lay on the sidewalk.
'But' he asked 'you and mumma dont?'
'We went when we were children, dear.' father replied.
'So when we stop being children, are we not 'good' anymore?' Asked the child, evidently surprised.
Taken aback, the father spontaneously replied 'Ofcourse not!'
'Then?' Enquired the curious little kid.
'I need to be cautious!' Thought the father.
'Dont you like school, dear?' He finally asked.
'I dont hate it but it isnt always fun.' Child replied.

'Well, you must start liking it! It is absolutely necessary, you know!'
'Why?' Asked the child again.

'Do you remember the coffee beans you were playing with the other day?'
The child nodded.
'Do you remember how you love its aroma?'
The child nodded.
'We all have a purpose, son. For us to realise it as well as prepare for it, we need to go out of our comfort zone. Afterall, the coffee bean cannot be used to make my cappuccino unless it undergoes the roasting! It is that roasting which brings out the flavour.' He held his tiny hand as he nodded, lost in another string of thoughts.

Together they walked down the street as usual. 'It is strange how this feels different each day' the father thought. The clouds came, the clouds went.
'Find the purpose' he thought.