Nicholas Wild was twelve years old when he first got a direct alternative view of the world he had been born into and the world he was made to believe was the real world. Then, he was outside, picking some pebbles for a personal collection he wanted to show his father when he saw the gardener of his father's large house who had recently retired from serving The Wilds because of his health issue.
"Why do you compete with people, son?" The gardener had asked him as soon as they were close.
"I compete because I want to be the best in my field. I want to be known for being the best," Nicholas had replied the man in his childish yet foolish voice.
The gardener shook his head as he picked a leaf lying freely on the grass. "Nicholas Wild, I think competition though an essence for human survival creates a world that messes with the human mind."
"Why do you say so? There is nothing wrong with wanting to be the best in your field. It is how life has been from the start. You strive to be the best at the expense of someone else. One must lose for you to attain your desired goal. It is the basic rule of life."
"It isn't, son," the gardener had stood up after dropping the leaf he was rubbing gently. "It is not how life was meant to be, and you have to stop thinking that way unless you want to have a narrowed perspective about life. You don't strive at one's own expense. No! You strive for the best at your own expense. No one will grab you when you are drowning. Everyone is thought to swim alone."
"Wrong sir," Nicholas had argued with the old man. "I totally disagree with you because my father taught me differently. He told me he had failed in different areas in life to the point where he understood the essence of competition, its importance to human survival and how badly it messes with the mind. We struggle to be the first and best at everything. . . He also taught me how life throws us at our utopian hour especially when we realize we have been living a speculative fictitious life for a while. He made me to be aware about how the good strives to become better while the bad relaxes and is being praised for doing less bad. I believe him because in the end, the world honors the earth in equal manners. With our protein rich body, giving life to the green that makes up most part of earth."
"I don't see life that way," the gardener had informed Luca, quietly.
"Why? Why are your views different from my father's views?"
"Because I am not your father, son," the gardener had sighed. "I just know that all that is happening is because people are losing something that defines our race. Humanity!
That is something which is being constantly eroded away by the current system. People were never meant to be superior. They were meant to work and strive together. Everyone assisting in what they could do and making the world a better place. But, the case is different these days. Today, it is the complete opposite. It is both ends of a spectrum, absolute exploitation and absolute abandonment. We put too much on ourselves to blame others for using us."
"Not true, sir," Nicholas had argued. "My father sees life differently."
"Of course, he has to. He is a man of his own world. But, If people stopped and realized their own worth, none would be the slaves or henchmen of others."
"But the case is different."
"There is no difference."
"Why?"
"It is subjective. You either can or cannot work for others and yourself. People straddling both get lost on one side, wavering. Duality on such things is impossible. You either are your own master or someone else's. Or, your own slave or someone else's. Competing is the same. You can only go for what you can."
"Situations in life makes choices difficult."
"No!"
"I suck at soccer. Would be useless competing right?"
"You have the choice, son. Becoming a master or a slave is still your own choice to make. You either exceed it or remain subject to it. That puts you in competition with yourself. The bet being which will take over and overthrow the other. In most cases, it is the one who wants to exceed or the one who won't go beyond."
"So, the goal is to compete with oneself?"
"The goal is to decide what path you choose to take, son."
"But, my father taught me differently," Nicholas had repeated. "I am choosing a career as a sprinter because I suck badly at soccer and can't kick a ball properly. What do you want me to do? Waste my time practicing soccer when I know there is no future for me in the sport?"
The gardener had sighed softly. "You decide what is best for you, son."
"And, you spoke about slaves and workers as if you didn't serve my father and our family for many years."
"I did, son," the gardener had admitted. "In fact, all these while I served, I didn't realize how dead I was in my soul until I quitted. I came back to take my stuffs and something told me to talk to you. It is your choice to follow the road that leads to damnation and liberation. It is your choice to follow your father or be a man of your own will."
"What if I choose to follow my father and his ways because it has led him to become the successful man he is today?"
"It is still your choice, son," the gardener had smiled. "Just remember to be happy when you look back at your past."
*
Nicholas Wild sat a few meters away from the girls who had lined up to compete for a place in the state championship. He could see Christabel Bloom by the far left with her shoulders raised high. It took ten seconds of impatience within his mind before the whistle was blown and the girls started running.