A DESIRE FOR LIGHT

When my uncle saw that I had made a good income by selling birds, particularly kites, he decided to take inspiration from my success. He opened a shop near his fruit shop in the market, hoping to replicate my results. However, while his business ran steadily, my passion for innovation drove me to explore new ideas. I began diversifying my collection, selling different kinds of birds, both real and crafted. This quickly gained popularity, and in a short span, my income grew significantly.

As I pondered the idea of generating electricity, the realization that I lacked the means to create solar panels weighed heavily on my mind. I had read about the immense power of sunlight and how it could be harnessed to bring light and life to the darkest of places, yet here I was, stuck in a world with no access to the necessary tools or technology. Frustration crept in, and with it came a wave of longing that I couldn't shake off. My thoughts wandered to my parents, the guiding lights of my life, who had always been my source of strength and inspiration.

I missed them deeply. I missed my father's unwavering belief in my abilities, his reassuring words that told me I was capable of achieving anything I set my mind to. I missed my mother's gentle voice, her warmth that could make even the toughest days bearable. A pang of guilt gnawed at my heart as I thought about how worried they might be. What if they had discovered I wasn't home? Were they searching for me now, calling out my name and hoping for a response? My absence must have left them distressed, imagining the worst.

The thought of them sitting by the door, waiting for me to return, filled me with sorrow. My father, pacing back and forth, his face etched with concern. My mother, perhaps shedding silent tears, praying for my safety. I could almost hear her voice in my head, telling me to stay safe and never give up, no matter how hard things seemed. The longing to see them again, to hold them and tell them I was safe, was overwhelming.

In that moment, my resolve strengthened. This journey wasn't just about making electricity or chasing success—it was about proving to them that their faith in me was not misplaced. I wanted to create something meaningful, something that would make them proud when I returned home. That thought became my driving force, pushing me to overcome the challenges ahead, no matter how impossible they seemed.

While grappling with this challenge, I was distracted by a new temptation—gold. Jewelry made of gold was shockingly cheap in this land, and the currency itself was crafted from gold. To add to this, diamonds were plentiful, and intricate jewelry made from them was sold at prices I could only dream of in my time. A thought crept into my mind: what if I bought some of this gold and diamond jewelry? If I sold it back in my world, I could become immensely wealthy.

This greed consumed me. I convinced myself that if I earned a little more, I could buy a significant amount of gold and diamonds. With this thought, I poured all my energy into selling birds, leaving no stone unturned in growing my business. The more I earned, the more my greed grew. I no longer thought of limits; I only thought about how to expand my business and accumulate wealth.

Despite my focus on making money, the idea of creating electricity lingered in my mind. I wanted to innovate, to make something revolutionary. But I was unsure of where to begin. The lack of tools, resources, and guidance frustrated me.

One particularly hot afternoon, after closing the shop for lunch, I walked home under the blazing sun. The heat was intense, and the sand beneath my feet burned like fire. At some spots, the sand reflected the sunlight so brilliantly that it resembled a mirror. This sight sparked an idea in my mind. If I could harness the sand and the abundant salt in the region, I could attempt to make glass.

I had read about the process in an old book. To make glass, you needed 75% sand, 25% sodium and lime. When heated to a temperature of 1500 degrees Celsius, the mixture would melt into a thick liquid that could be shaped into glass. This glass could then be crafted into mirrors or other objects.

Excited by this possibility, I shared my idea with my uncle. He was skeptical but agreed to help. I asked him to procure the lime and salt needed for the experiment. I decided to attempt this at night when the market was quieter and there was less distraction. If the glass turned out well, it would be a stepping stone toward creating solar concentrators or other innovative tools.

As evening approached, the weather turned pleasant. I sat at my shop, waiting for the right time to begin my experiment. The streets were bustling with activity, merchants calling out to customers, and the chatter of people filling the air.

While I was lost in thought, planning the steps for my experiment, I noticed a commotion at the far end of the market. A rider, accompanied by an entourage, was approaching. His arrival was unlike anything I had seen before. His attire was regal, his cloak embroidered with intricate golden patterns. On one side of the procession, there was a grand palanquin, its silken curtains fluttering in the breeze. In the middle marched a soldier, his armor gleaming in the evening light.

The sight was awe-inspiring. The merchants along the street paused their work, bowing their heads in respect as the rider passed. I quickly joined them, lowering my head and observing discreetly. The rider's horse came to a halt right in front of my shop.

The moment was surreal. Why had he stopped here? My shop, though popular, was modest compared to others in the market. As he dismounted, his boots made a soft thud on the ground, and he stood tall, surveying my shop. His piercing gaze fell upon the birds displayed—both the live ones in cages and the kites swaying gently in the breeze.

For a brief moment, he seemed lost in thought, as if the sight of the birds stirred some memory or idea within him. I stood frozen, unsure whether to speak or wait for him to address me. The merchants nearby had fallen silent, their curiosity piqued but tempered by respect for the rider's presence.

As he approached the display, I noticed the intricate details of his attire every thread, every ornament on his belt and boots, radiated wealth and power. Yet his expression was calm, almost thoughtful, as if he carried the weight of knowledge rather than mere authority.

The rider stopped, and our eyes met. I felt a strange mix of awe and anticipation. Why was he here? What did he want?