Short Story: Illeon's Arrival

          Before he died, he stayed in our house for a couple of days. My brother was innocent, but they took him to the politicians' horrible private room anyway. There, they coerced him to play a heart-breaking part of life. The first day he arrived in our house, he was as pale as a dry autumn-leaf that makes one forget all about a green arbor. The frets of his lips were the inside-outed red maple leaf, caulked among the spaces of his lips' flesh. His eyes were half open from which only the crimson dusk around his eyes' cornea was visible. Whatever the situation he was in, his arrival was as gladdening as those first breezes in late winter of Canada that herald the arrival of spring. For a few days and nights, he was too unconscious to notice us gathering around him. When the Goddess of our house asked him: "Where were you all these years? we all missed you.", he was response-less. His ear cells failed to trigger an action potential in response to her voice. When she stood in front of him, he could only see her silhouette like a mercury and gold slurry outlined with light. He could see her face only like an impinged sun behind the clouds of a somber day. Her smell also could not reach his consciousness. So, we realized that he had lost all his senses and his precious memories.
          Among all of his siblings, only Illeon could make it to our noble house. It is because he was a symbol of reading, writing, meditation, peace, and mainly he was an omen of Gods of heavens besides being a structural engineer. He was biologically the youngest among us, but his patience had elevated his spirit as lofty as the oldest of us. The intuition and consistency by which he could break out from the basement was beyond human's logic. He broke out once he understood the cause of his sorrows. This awareness invoked a geyser of compassion and responsibility in him about other people too. Hence, he dug a path all the way to our house or else both he and the prisoners would rot and die down there.


          He went missing for seven years. This separation had emotionally, mentally, and bodily writhed Lily too. She had grown old and quiet. The pink rose of youth-hood that once glowed on her cheeks were supplanted with a dull sun-burnt hay color. She had lost everything and every member of her family. Eventually, the loss of Illeon broke her last social relation with the world. When she missed him, a huge cloud of emotional pain gathered around the sky of her heart so much that nothing could console her. Tears and stifled sobs were the only cathartic relief which later, they also could not relieve her anymore. Then she would walk to the balcony, but no more than a minute, the sorrow-knot in her throat would burst into little dews in her eyes. "I am glad you are here. Don't you know the extent to which Gods of heavens love you that have led you to our house?" We would console her with kindness, but she had a grudge against the whole divisions and separations on the earth. The pearls of tears then hang in the corner of her eyes until a soothing breeze dried them out. The sorrow of her distant family, and Illeon had blinded her from seeing other beauties in our garden. For example, she was too sad to enjoy the flowers in our garden or notice our encouraging words. She cried: "They divided us for no good reason." Then she locked herself up in her room to not see any society peoples' faces. To comfort her emotions, she isolated herself, and cut her fingers deep with a pen-knife. Then the God of kindness inspired us to intervene. I went behind her window and asked: "Who has hurt my sweet friend? It is saddening that you hurt your body with that pen-knife."
"Leave me alone." she moaned behind her locked door.
"Can you write it to me please? Isn't writing it down better than cutting your innocent hands?"
Her trembling voice came out: "Later. I will write about it later."
"Anytime, but please write the whole story to us. We can bring Illeon back, but please do not harm yourself that way. It harms all of us." After a while of pause, the Goddess of our house convinced her to open her room's door, and said: "My God, this girl doesn't love herself. Her finger is bleeding like a front-line soldier. Bring the bottle, do you know the name of it? That bottle on the front shelf." We rushed and passed the bottle. The Goddess cleaned up her wounds, washed her face, and took away her penknife.


          Then we took her for meditative walks in the breeze of the evenings. When she arrived at the hilltop, she looked at the green hillsides below, she saw an elegant gazelle walking up the hill. Alone and free in the vale of happiness. When the little gazelle arrived at another hilltop, she felt a reflection of herself in both the little gazelle before her and the vast cosmos behind her. She felt herself like a transparent medium or halo between the gazelle and the cosmos. Motionless her body had become not to disturb her delicate meditation. The strength of a gazelle who roam the farthest and highest hills without water, amazed her.
          As we walk further above the hill, we have a broader view of landscapes, foliage, and valleys that stretch down the hill. It is better to have a view of any huge and handsome picturesque beauty from far away than from close. There are many distant sundowns that look beautiful, but as soon as we are in an airplane and get closer to it, it loses its beauty. At the hilltop, we see the whole natural aesthetics concerting beneath our feet. Like a blue jay on a pine tree, we have the view of all that is around and beneath. Although as we climb a hill of life the circle of our freedom gets tighter, the halo of our wisdom gets wider.
          The juxtaposition of Lily's small body and the earth's huge body gave her a sense of transparency, absurdness, and emptiness. Such meditation rang a bell of superconsciousness in her consciousness. For the first time, she had become wise enough to understand the truth that there is good in both separation and togetherness. She slowly deceased to feel the emotional pain from the attachment to Illeon and her distant family. She felt free from the desire to see their forms. Then she casted her elegant eyes over all the natural beauties beneath her feet such as trees, jungles, and the delicate butterflies soaring above the flowers of our garden. Like an artist who works for so many years to finish a work, and once he accomplishes, he sees all the slices of past-time blooming in his creation. Such was Lily's moment; filled with serenity, coolness, and true happiness. Like a red rose amidst green leaves that funnels our attention towards it, Lily's experience surpassed all her bodily, mental, and emotional pain. This transcendental observation loosened her muscles, and instilled a stillness in her body and soul. There was a trust entrenched in her heart of hearts that the force that drives life is not in politicians' hands. In a mysterious way, she was reassured that unless Gods of heavens will, politicians cannot get rid of Illeon. A delicate smile that portrayed sweet hope appeared on her lips. Like the smile that we feel by the imagination of virtually kissing the huge surface of an ocean or the interstices of a horizon.
          The basement was designed in a secret underground. Far from the above-ground peoples' sight. It was like the Jew camps of World War II built for forced-labor. This institution was strictly controlled and conditioned by the politicians. Far from the sunshine's warmth with which we begin our days in our house, the prisoners lived in freezing tunnels. Their cells were in the dark and dump tunnels with few blue-ray lights designed for alarm in case a prisoner attempted to break out. Such synthetic lights increased the residents' physiological activity. So to speak, the more physiologically active a prisoner was, the more advantageous for the politicians it was. In the center of the basement, there was one main square in which a huge bell rang when the residents were called for forced labor work or juridical punishments. The electromagnetic waves, uncontrolled carbon emissions, and the noise of the trains decreased the biological age of any resident inasmuch that before the residents noticed it, they would be too weak to make a move. Similar to lilac tassels in our garden, in the basement's ceilings, hang moisture black fluffy burnt carbon tassels. Like the carbon tassels in Toronto's subway ceiling. Such conditions had damaged Illeon's brain and body by the time he made it out. All those controlling and conditionings by the politicians not only made life hard on residents but increased the politicians' sufferings too. It was because the rulers of the basement were egotistic in opposition to the altruistic residents.
          In any social interaction, neither altruists nor egotists are totally happy. Egotists' greed leads them to selfishness, indulgence, plundering, foolishness, anger, and eventually harming others. Altruists' magnanimity leads them to selflessness, sacrifice, and finally self-harm. What made Illeon elite enough to be happy down the road was that he was neither altruist nor egotist. Illeon had broken the chained spectrum of poles such as altruism and egoism. He was simply generous to all existence and grateful for all that existence offered him. He was courageous, tranquil, and mainly himself.




          Many slandered people were taken down to the basement. In Illeon's case, he was accused of Lily's attempted murder in Panopticon. In today's terms ( homeless shelter). He was a young boy at the time. No more than three weeks after Lily's acquaintance, he was arrested and taken to the politicians' private room. The story goes like this: One evening while going from his reading desk to his bunk, Illeon finds Lily dappled with blood on the floor. With pure and godly intention, he runs and holds her in his arms. Takes her pen-knife from her hand. At that point in time, a female security guard who was jealous, and had an ephemeral lust for Illeon, arrives. Many times she had approached Illeon, but naive as he was, he never noticed the guard 's jealousy for Lily and her erotic intentions for himself. The guard yells "help!". The officers and ambulance arrive. "It's him." the guard says. The ambulance takes Lily to hospital. Officers take Illeon to behind the scenes where the cruel politicians show their real untruthful face. Lily goes into a coma for a year or so. The guard takes advantage of her coma, and accuses Illeon of having a sexual relationship with Lily. When Lily comes back to life, she asserts that Illeon only platonically shared his routine with her, and that it was her drunk parents who drove her to suicide -not Illeon. As a result of this late testimony, the gentlemen of the jury announced Illeon's freedom, but Illeon did not come out of the basement. We sent letters to him to know why he refused to come out of that basement, but he did not tell us until his last breath in our house. Nobody knew the reason for what broke Illeon's heart to such an extent that he refused to be free. Later, we realized that it was the guards and officers who treated him un-gently. They despised his throat, hit him with a transmitter, and commanded him to get nude, and to bow in front of them. When he asked:
          "Why bending?"
          They said: "It is part of it."
          "Part of what?"
          The officer smirked at his unawareness about the existence of ugly parts in life. They replied:
          " We suspect you stole Lily's pen-knife, and it can be in your underwear."
          " Do you have a nurse or a surgeon here? You are the woman I am not married to, how can I take off my underwear?"
          " Sir! We need to search you naked."
          Then they called him: "disgraced". So, we realized that it was Illeon's confrontation with such lawless lawmakers that had broken his heart. Such was Illeon's tragedy that he thought the inferior politicians had insulted his superior dignity. After seeing billions of people suffering from the same traumatic experience, he realized that despising one's throat is not the loss of one's grace. Such awareness enlightened his heart. Hence, he began his journey to our house.




          The last days in the basement, he had reached a great state of patience, kindness, and knowing. He knew that it was not the guards' fault because even today security guards are trained for only two or so months. What can one expect?
He knew that it is the political egotists who mis-train them to mistreat people that way. Illeon was gnostic, so he knew that people down there were being used and abused by the bad intentions of the politicians. That is why he did not react or hold any grudge against anybody down there. In response to such mistreatments, not only did he not feel fear or make a complaint, but he cleaned up his clothes and walked away. He got concerned only about one truth -that is the difference between harmer and harmed. He knew that it is the harmer who loses sleep when the judgment of conscience reaches them in their beds. Then out of kindness and empathy he wished them a restful sleep.                     He was innocent like a child. Through this innocence there was a synchrony, harmony, and superimposition between his body and soul. At such a state of wisdom, thoughts, worries and concerns turn into responsibility, caring and compassion. One becomes a hollow vessel through whom the holy spirit flows. Illeon had become an individual through whom truth, divinity, and bliss manifested. His presence was like the presence of a dancer that concerts all the orchestra and people together. Like a knight who does not travel without light, Illeon did not make a move without kindness. His mind, prejudgments, and the desire for any piece of crumb could not take his peace away anymore. When one arrives at our house, wisdom surpasses one's madness, sorrows, and all sufferings. Illeon had arrived. He was healed before his death. Hence, autumn and fall equally enraptured him. His eyes could see us crystal clear, and his precious memories were also restored. He could hear our poems and songs too. Even though Lily's suicide was heavy on us, but Illeon died with that sweet, elegant, and peaceful smile with which Lily left his reading desk for the last time that evening.