Subtlety Is Pretty Much Resolute!

Up against the massive boulders of the great mountain, once lived an old man in a tiny hut, ably decorated under a thatched roof, that survived mostly on the nearby vegetation. The old man had embraced asceticism to the zenith, and would leave no stone unturned to cling on to it. 

Cut off from the external world, he would often seek refuge in his daily hymns, with a rosary encircled all day long, completely oblivious of the external world around him. Days passed, months and years rolled by, and the old man gradually became  more and more confined to himself, and even more ambitious towards discovery of the self. The natives were of the opinion that every word of his would pan out and that it actually did. Yet, he was always beyond everything, nothing in this world could disturb his vivid quality of unattachment. Yet, there was this deep down subtle desire in him that was so obstinate that the poor man couldn't brush it off. 

He so overtly wished that perhaps one day he could climb up to the top of the mountain and prostrate before the sun. However old age had really caught him and climbing the mountain would be detrimental to his health.

So, he chose to be more meditative, peaceful and calm, and surrounded himself with hymns, and books and set off for his holy expedition of achieving the unattainable and unachievable. And, he was successful, in fact his success knew no boundaries, was independent and definitely, most definitely unfathomable. Thus, his wiser bones began chanting the name of the all powerful, mighty force all day long.

Yet, this subtle thought irked him every night as he went off to sleep, somewhere hindering his thirst for liberation. There was this intense, uncanny desire that refused to budge an inch. Deep down the subtle desire craved freedom, and exposure to the air outside on the hill top, wrapped under a whole new eccentric energy, that would couple perfectly against the enigmatic aroma of the buttercups blooming from the climbers. He would often visualise himself to be fully exposed against the rays of the sun, wrapped under a never ending energy showing up on his countenance. This subtle desire was so very profound that it refused to be dominated, rather became more powerful with each day…

Possibly, logic finds its way in every impossibility.

One fine morning, a group of Russians arrived, that went trekking to the mountain top. This left the old man baffled as no one ever came to trek on that mountain. Yet the Russians were infamous for trekking and carrying out their expeditions in the rarest of places, the old man watched them crawl over the mountain speechlessly, and was moved by their movements. He was smitten by their carefree attitude, and full of life movements which got him thinking about his own lifestyle. 

They were young, dynamic, brazen with energy, all set out to conquer the world, somewhat resonating with the subtle consciousness of his. He wanted to shout out to the world, yet couldn't… Something held him back…

Gradually after sometime, evening set in and as he was enjoying his cup of tea, he heard a knock at his door. The Russians stood at the other side, asking for water, as they ran out of it, and stopped by the old man's hut to ask for some water. The Russian began asking the old man about his hobby and he couldn't help but talk about his subtle desire of climbing onto the mountain top. The thought remained a thought and never really came to fruition. 

Unflinchingly, the Russians seemed to gauge the old man's subtle desire. Next morning, as they set off for the trek, they offered to carry the old man to the hilltop, and said that he can fulfill his heart's subtle desires. The old man tried to retort, but without fail. 

The next vivid thing he recalled was him shouting the voice of glory on the hilltop, amid the buttercups. He was free, liberated, and no longer subtle. All his subtle thoughts had become resolute till then...