My First Short Story In English

Fate Not Luck

It was a nice spring day, a typical day for a picnic or just a walking in the park. Jawhar, a young handsome gentleman in his late twenties, was sitting down on a park bench under a huge plane tree. A whitehead old man was sitting next to him.
“How can one appreciate life?” Jawhar suddenly asked.

“SORRY!!??” the old man replied in wonder.

“How you can appreciate your life, I mean, do you think that you’ve lived a great life?” Jawhar asked again.

“Well, it’s difficult to tell” the old man said.

“It’s like a beautiful-decorated dish, as long as you see, you would really taste it. However, you do not know if it would be a delicious and worthy to have, or just decoration” the old man added.

“So, it’s just luck isn’t it?” Jawhar asked as he started looking at the old man and getting closer to him.

“Sometimes, it’s true, but not always” the old man replied with a soft smile.

“But I find it difficult to be lucky, even in the basic things of life” Jawhar said hopelessly.

“Listen, it’s really simple, you should do your best to get what you want and don’t expect to have it easily”
the old man said.

“I really do” Jawhar replied immediately.

“So, don’t wait luck’s favor”.

“Ok, but you have just told me there is luck?! So….” Jawhar queried

"And you just told me “you don’t need luck” the old man replied

“When that happened?” Jawhar clarified.

“I’m listening to you but you don’t” the old man said.

“You should listen to yourself” the old man suggested.

“I’m really confused” Jawhar said.

“Don’t be, please” the old man said.

“If you are meant to be lucky, you will be” the old man added

“I think I would never get what I want” Jawhar said sadly.

“Do you think you’ve been doing your best?” the old man queried.

“Really I don’t know” Jawhar answered.

“Then, you should know” the old man suggested.

“Be sure about your plan in this life and don’t blame luck, you will get what you are fated to.” The old man said in a certain tone as he gave Jawhar a fatherly pat on his shoulder.

Jawhar looked directly at the old man’s eyes. He could see a lot than these beautiful blue eyes. He examined each little wrinkle that drew decades on that soft face. Jawhar was holding the old man’s hand as he had a strange feeling sneaked in through his body. He couldn’t feel the old man’s hand. He was very aghast as the image of the old man started to fade away.
There was a freaking deadly silence which was broken by a long song of a nightingale.