'the Value of a Star copy

Girl in VOAS



The Value of a Star


Like splatters of bleach on a gigantic cloth, we find marks of fire and worlds apart. Stars, we call it. We find no less pleasure from viewing the myriad beings. After following chronicles, no age or time can truly be critic for what they are. No being in us, may ever reach the absolute threshold of contact.

I, a child in the cold dead bed of the night, see this festival of lights as my end. Tomorrow in the break of dawn I am foretold to have unending dreams and countless days never to rise again. Here, my last moments I spend gazing upon celestial beings. A warmth does rush within me as an analogy comes to mind. Lest, I may be wrong but the vacuum dispersing the stars are similar to my solitude.


Now staring at this wonderful sight, the truth from the equivalence gains vivid perceptive. If I am a star, I would be alone. Many miles and moments away from companionship, I may die alone such as now. Imagine the years it shall make without progress if one to search the vast space for another of its kind. The waste of the moments, and time be gone, like one never existed. As like me, I, who is just a single mortal to disappear shall never be found in the billions just like me. This has made me ponder on my worth, on who I am.

In the end, how do I compare the value of the search between the value of myself?

As the question soaks in the thought, my eyes begin to wave to sleep.



Moments then pass and feeling of an affectionate glow strikes my face. I welcome in gratefulness the comforting heat within these cold walls of solitude, consequently, to be awakened heat from a touch. A tiny hand I felt. What a surprise fell over me! A child in a sun dyed dress appears before me. Emitting a light from herself. She is the youth of about 6 in my eyes. The strangeness does not crawl to me rather it is amazement in such existence.

“I shall not dwindle a moment later, since your time is coming its finish,” says she in her most holy tone. “I have been sent here from the beings above to grant your most yearned desire,” a voice of temptation crawls to my ears. The child does not move a centimetre with lips as her voice directly comes to me. Shocking is all I can resume. For what have I done to be rewarded such honour in existence. No words left my mouth as I heard her reply to my thoughts.

“You have been granted such exception, with I not knowing for what reasons why. This might not be honour but rather opportunity. Since the reasons are not given, better to accept this chance as a gift rather than a consequence,” she replies sweet as honey.

Now, what shall I make do of this? I have such blessing from fortune. I believe her to be true from the fact that I have nothing to lose if I was to be lied to. Oh, how I must be pitiful to whoever has sent her to me. As I thought, she only awaits my decision.


For I thought long and hard, what desire could I have fulfilled in this empty life I have taken. My happiness is to be fulfilled by the thought of it.


Shall I wish for life?

Shall I earnestly fulfil my filial obligation?

Shall I be ubiquitous and wish for something worldly?

Shall I wish for the moment to be known amongst others?

Shall rationalism rule over me and wish for more wishes?



The paradox of choice, I recall is when one given many opportunities would rather choose nothing than regret not choosing the other. To learn from the though, I imagined what question shall I accomplish to answer but the equality within such options only surround me with diversity. I am confused for what shall I make of this gift.

To rule over all questions in my mind needs an answer that satiates the callings of being a mortal, an individual, a country’s honour, a religion and ethics. With so many systems to obey, greed to achieve all or to not respond at all was the options in context with me.

If I shall choose, what shall it be?


I am a few minutes ago was alone. Staring back at the stars, my answer was clear as water dripped by rocks in the deepest caves.

The whole night I did not answer her question. She could read my thoughts but not the feeling which was the answer to her question. I began questioning her about what I can, and she diligently responds to me. We spent the hours like this till the sun began to rise and just like the stars it was her time to go. As she tells me this I made my answer.


“To you who sent me, let you be the one to grant him/her a wish, for that is my wish,” thankful as I was. I had become certain of my answer every second the light got stronger. She thanked me and vanished as swift the moment she appeared.

To the person whoever sent me this being, you had already granted all my wishes. You had given me the answer to which I had asked:

In the end, how do I compare the value of the search between the value of myself?

My answer was concomitant to all the desires in my heart, and time was what made the greatest difference. For If I had chose to answer immediately my loneliness would surge out devoiding myself of the answer of the search, but if I did not answer I would have done nothing to prove value of my worth. The timeliness of my end could have never been so perfect; as a result it leaves me the satisfaction of knowing the glory of my answer. For whatever wish that maybe granted, it is my pleasure to whatever it may serve to be for it functions its greatest possible reward. A way to live and let die like stars above us and the spectrum of life, and now I have given an opportunity in such a spectrum with my well timed demise.


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