This was a story submission that won the first place at Jain University's Mélange 2016.
Ali was not the luckiest being alive. Certainly not the least fortunate, but he possessed no luck whatsoever. But this never phased Ali. He just kept going on, and on in life. He was a bit dim-witted, and looked rather ordinary. He had one of those faces that you'd think looked very familiar, but never quite remembered. But that's okay, because that is what makes him our story's hero. Although Ali exudes mediocrity, Ali was to become the silent protector of his Little Village. The village was so tiny, that if you walked from the hospital to the pharmacy, you'd reach the village limits. That also says a lot about the terrible architect who planned the Little Village and named it after his third wife. But since no one really knows who this architect is, or who his first, second, and third wife were, the village just became known as the Little Village. The Little Village had a very little signboard that points to its existence, but a few uncouth pigeons exercised their bowel movement upon the signboard. No one that passes by the signboard knows why there is a giant lollipop-shaped sign on the highway, because no one knows that the giant lollipop is in fact a little signboard pointing to a Little Village. This piece of history is unimportant to our story, but since this story is a mélange of voices that have contributed to an intense narrative that shall be eroded by time and ground to nothingness, we shall include every little part of the story.
Back to Ali being the protector of his Village. A long time ago, Ali's mother drifted her unwanted child down the river, until it reached the orange orchards. Ali grew among the orange orchards of the Little Village, belonging to none and belonging to everyone. His witless smile and words of ignorant optimism, brought joy to many, although even the little population of the Little Village could never remember who Ali was. One day, Ali was looking at the mountains and realized he was only at the bottom of the majestic structures. He said to himself, "Everyone says I deserve better, and I have to go higher. This is what they mean, this is what they want me to do. I have to climb the mountains." The fool packed his bags with a few warm clothes and left.
Ali spent seven days, and seven nights climbing the mountains. On the eighth, he declared, "But wait, where am I supposed to be going? What am I supposed to be looking for?" But Ali never let questions bother him. Ali went on, and on. Another seven days, and seven nights passed before Ali thought he reached the top. "I did it! I did it! I reached the top of the mountain!" he whimpered, before collapsing on the peak. The last thing he witnessed was the grandeur of several millions galaxies, before he passed out cold. Like literally freezing cold. When he awoke a few hours later, he found himself warm, revived and his strength seemed to have been returned to him. Because he neither seemed to be endowed with greater strength, nor with lesser strength, but with just the same amount of strength he usually carries. However, his vision seemed to have improved remarkably. He felt like he could see everything in HD from his height atop the roof of the World. He shouted "Woohoo!" and heard his own voice echo back at him. He also heard two voices yelling "Jerk!" at him, from somewhere nearby (or maybe they were far, Ali couldn't tell).
Ali enjoyed his improved vision so much, that he braved Nature and rested atop the mountain peak for the next lunar cycle. Every single day, his vision improved. Ali started seeing more, he began noticing more, he began learning more. Ali seemed to be absorbing knowledge. Ali grew in power and saw that a couple of untimely clouds were going to rain on Little Village and destroy its citric yield. Ali chose not to warn his village, because Ali felt that they were too insignificant to be bothered with. On that very night, the storms lashed, and the rains raged across the mountains and the village. Ali forgot to carry salt, and icy water is a major health hazard. Ali slipped on slush and rolled all the way down to the foot of the mountain. He felt that justice had been served. What goes up, must come down.
Ali was now not the same person he had been before climbing the mountain. Ali was severely disfigured, and extremely learned now. He made it his sole priority to spread the message that knowledge, and the quest to reach higher, was in vain. With all that intellect he had absorbed, the only way he could think of to protect his village from evil, was to advise his neighbours against education. Ali's face and his walk frightened some of the people in the neighbourhood. But, the real trouble was with the kids. They chased him on the street, and mocked him when he hobbled by. Some had taken to call him names. But Ali never let anything bother him. Ali was all about being positive.
The Universe works in mysterious ways, but Ali knows one thing for sure, that if things are going downhill, there will always be a river nearby, and when things are going uphill, you might find the climb to be a little too difficult and the lack of air might just kill you. Ali believes that if things are working too well, it is never likely to last, but if things are in the worst possible condition, nothing could get better or worse, and he can then maintain a homeostasis. But Ali also knows, that if you never make the climb, you will never possess wisdom. So Ali yelled out, one more time, to all those in the village who could hear him, "Stay foolish! Stay happy!" Ali could tell, that the shoe that hit his back was a Size 9.
