It wasn’t easy.
To trek down a two thousand, with a backpack that tries to push. I began to bargain for the inches of my life. On the early clock of 14-04-18, when my eyes began to anchor along with the shivering legs, I began to climb with fear and faith along the slope. Many experienced people passed me without any third leg (bamboo stick) but I decided not to rush.
It was as if my nerves were writing a code in zeros and ones. It goes as to step one leg at a place and if it stands good, go for one. If not, wait or skid as long as it takes a perfect stand. Those minutes could prove how much I love my life. When I was climbing down the last mountain, even when the stones pierced into my feet, I couldn’t feel any pain.
It wasn’t that there isn’t any pain….But the fact that I wasn’t falling down kept me occupied. Pain transformed into a tiny slope on the scale.
The story that I would never forget or never would have written if I haven’t made it. But I’ve experienced that our strength is stretchable to a limit that no one could imagine… In the end, all I could do was to do an old man to climb the stair for the second floor and fell on the bed for three straight hours on the midtime of 14-04-18….
Thank you for reading…