Author: Syed Suhail Ahmad
April 28, 2025
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Mira and her grandfather walked along the rocky trail that edged the river, the same river that had once taught her about time. The late afternoon sun stretched their shadows long and thin, like travelers journeying toward a far horizon.
Mira picked up a smooth stone and turned it over in her hand. “Grandfather,” she said, “if purpose is knowing why we are here… then what is commitment?”
Her grandfather smiled, the kind of smile that seemed to hold the whole world inside it.
He knelt by the riverbank and began drawing in the soft earth with a stick.
“You see,” he said, “purpose is the star you choose to follow. But commitment… commitment is the steps you take, even when clouds cover the sky.”
Mira tilted her head, curious.
“Many people feel inspired,” he said, “but they wait for the perfect day — the perfect mood, the perfect conditions. Commitment is when you keep walking even when the road gets rough. It’s when you stay true, not just when it’s easy, but especially when it’s hard.”
He drew two paths: one straight but full of thorns, the other winding and beautiful, yet leading nowhere.
“Without commitment,” he said, “dreams remain dreams. Commitment makes them real. It’s the invisible bridge between wishing and becoming.”
Mira traced the thorny path with her finger. “So commitment is… choosing the hard work?”
Her grandfather chuckled. “Sometimes. But more truly, it’s choosing to honor your purpose, again and again. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Even when nobody claps for you. Even when doubt whispers louder than hope.”
Mira sat quietly, the stone warm in her hand.
Grandfather added softly, “And remember, commitment doesn’t mean you never adjust. It doesn’t mean being stubborn without wisdom. Commitment is living with a heart that says, ‘I will give my best toward what truly matters.’ It’s a dance between steadfastness and learning.”
The river’s voice rose in a gentle chorus, a song of persistence, a song of movement that never tired.
Mira looked up at him, a quiet fire kindling in her chest.
“And after commitment?” she asked.
He smiled, eyes shining.
“After commitment,” he said, “comes resilience.”
“But that’s a story for another walk,” he added with a wink.
Hand in hand, they continued down the trail, the river singing beside them, the stone warm in her palm, and the path stretching wide before them.