Direction
"What am I gonna do?" Johan sighed, walking down the street with his overwhelmed mind. At 20 years old, he felt like a despairing soul — a parasite, as if he were feeding off his parents while others his age were doing something dignified. The more he compared himself to others, the deeper he sank into a well of loneliness and laziness. Living far from home in search of direction, Johan had hoped a break from his usual surroundings would help him find his path. Yet instead, he felt more lost than ever.
One morning, the ringing of his phone jolted him awake. "Mumma calling..." He stared at the screen. He didn’t want to answer — what would he tell her? That he was still directionless? Feeling defeated, he switched off his phone. There were two reasons for this: one, to avoid calls; and two, he was tired of the world inside that screen — endless scrolling, endless wasting of time.
“This time, I’ll focus on myself,” he muttered. But he knew this promise wasn't new. He’d said it before, but falls back into old patterns. Determined, Johan stepped outside and chose a different path — quieter streets, shaded by trees, away from the noise of the city.
That's when he noticed an old man selling statues. The man didn't look poor; he was well-dressed and clean. Something about him felt peaceful. Johan, usually one to avoid conversation, felt oddly drawn to him. He walked closer.
"Dadaji(grandpa)... you know this isn’t a great spot to sell your work, right?" Johan said, curious. The old man smiled wisely. "Why are you here today?" Johan froze. He had no answer.
The old man continued, “I’m not here to earn money. My son earns enough. I make these statues because I love it... just started recently.” Johan studied the statues. They were beautiful — far too perfect for someone who’d only recently started.
"Dadaji... don’t you feel like you’re too old to start something new?" The old man said. "It’s never too late to start something if it dwells in your heart." Johan paused, feeling something stir inside him.
"I'll buy one," Johan said. The old man shook his head. "I don’t sell them. I give them to those who need them." He handed Johan a statue of a young boy — eyes wide, hands stretched out, as if he is desperately searching for something.
Johan didn’t know why, but that statue sparked something in him. Clutching it tightly, he rushed back to his room. He placed the statue on his desk and sat down. For the first time in a long while, Johan felt focused. He grabbed a notebook and started writing — setting small goals for himself.
Next, he picked up his phone and deleted all his social media apps. Then, he applied for an online internship — something simple that didn’t require many skills but would keep him engaged. Slowly, Johan began to enjoy learning, exploring, and discovering himself.and engaged him in skillful hobbies.
And now, every time he sat at his desk, one question he ask to him — "What am I gonna write next?.
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