Alchemist's Character Chats with his Creator

I was sitting on the front of a shop, which belonged to a local merchant and having a chat with him about the scenery of the snow-tipped mountains not far away where I was from. I sighted a frail figure emerging from the shadows projected by the canopy of trees far-off – and as soon as it magnified, a young innocent looking boy with a crook grasped into his hand appeared along with his flock of sheep near by the shop at a measurable distance from me. As I was keenly observing the boy, the merchant decided to do his accountancy work and left me alone. The young shepherd sat on a big rock that lied opposite to the shop, only separated by a pot-holed dusty road that connected the village from urban areas – He put out a book from his bag and began to read it amidst flurry in the surrounding market-place. The book looked familiar to me and I went across the road, and squatted below him so as to have a better look at the book’s front cover. He noticed me and put away the book from his face and gave me a stern glance. I got up and sat on the same rock. ‘Which book are you reading?’ I asked him gently. He showed me the front cover of the book and simultaneously said its name – “The Alchemist”. ‘This book is based on me – I am the protagonist,’ he spoke further without being asked. ‘If you are the protagonist, I am its creator then,’ I told him smilingly. He was stunned by the revelation and stood up to have a face-to-face conversation with me.

‘Why did you make me a shepherd? You know it is so hard to handle these creatures (sheep). I could have been sitting at my home – with my family in leisure right now but since you have put me into this troublesome life, you will have to fix it now,’ he confronted me. I wanted to interrupt him in middle of what he was saying though, but I kept giving him an ear till he stopped complaining.

‘You chose to become a shepherd not I made you one – because you wanted to travel places beyond your countryside.

Your father suggested you to become a traveler without having to spend any money on your tours,’ I retorted.

He sighed, giving the impression that nothing I said, had actually been in agreement with what he thought about the allocation of his role in the story. Silence prevailed for a moment but I could very easily predict the prying questions that were to be hurled at me. The next spree of questions took a little more time than expected and then he came to life again.

‘Why is it that you threw in so many hurdles in to my way – in to my dream’s way – in to my treasure’s way? Why did you not tell me where the treasure was in the first place, so that I could have it without going through the trial? It gave me so much pain and left me at times, miserable, that I wanted to give up; it even cost me my love,’ he protested.

When he put forth those questions to me, I could see angst and anger in his eyes, leaving me wordless for some time. Then, I got up on the rock I was sitting on, had another mesmerizing look at the mountains and turned to Santiago – the shepherd. I put a counter question to him – ‘Would you have been the person you are now, had you not gone to the extreme level of endurance for realizing your dream and achieving the prize it deserved? Look at yourself, you are a far better person than you were. You now have the courage to dream and make that dream a reality again; for there might arise more new obstacles which will try to stop you, but you could overcome them too - with your heart – because the whole world conspires to achieve dreams for you.’ I had finished what I wanted to convey to him. He, however, put his head down, seemingly dissecting every word I had said.

He had got his answer to every grievance he had been reading and living till now. I jumped off the rock and went back across the road to the shop; by that time the merchant too had come back to the shop and was already having coffee or something. The young shepherd stood still there, as if frozen and then after a few minutes took his crook into his hand and went away with the sheep, into the dark clouds that had gathered around over our heads.