He remembered how they had parted last time, but he didn't care. He wanted to talk to someone. Who is better than his friend, who had a different point of view from himself?! He knocked on the door, but it didn't open. His friend wasn't at home. He knew his friend would come back late, so he waited near his house.
Not much time passed when his friend came back, but he was lost in his own thoughts and didn't notice his friend approaching him. His friend sat down next to him and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, said:
"How are you, brother?"
The wing-seeker man regained consciousness and replied in a drowsy voice:
"I might be fine; I don't know."
His friend smiled gently, as if he had known everything. He said:
"It's cold outside. Let's go inside and talk."
But the wing-seeker man said:
"Cold?! It doesn't matter. Brother, please tell me what must I do? I thought I would rid myself of this mud, but they told me I should draw into it first. They say I am going to be free when I wear their shackles. And these wings... what can I do without these wings? Tell me!"
His friend looked at his wings, but not like anyone else who saw them; he looked at them as two bloody wounds, two weights on his friend's shoulders. Then he said:
"My friend, it is true that you have to sink in the mud to pay the price of your freedom, but should the mud be caused by the pain and suffering of others or your own? When you find out that the road you are walking on is false, don't be afraid to turn back. By continuing on that road, you'll not find your happy land. My friend, your dreams are big, but your way is wrong. No one can be in the sea forever; the sea does not swallow him. And you come saying you're a good swimmer?! But my friend, don't you feel you're drowning little by little?"
The wing-seeker man studied his friend's words and then said:
"What should I do?"
"Put down this weight on your shoulders and turn back."
The wing-seeker man thought about being without wings again. Part of his heart still wanted them.
His friend confidently told him,
"Brother, you should use clean water to wash the fruits, not dirty water. That doesn't make them clean; it makes them dirtier."
The wing-seeker man thought about all the cruel things he had done. Later, he said,
"But how can I change the world without wings?"
His friend smiled at him and then said,
"I assure you, if you continue like this, before you change the world, your wings will change you. You let go of these wings, and I promise the things that come after that won't be that bad."
The wing-seeker man left his friend. He had made his own decision. Tomorrow, he would go and resolve everything—not just with them, but with his own self, too.
He stood in front of the man and said,
"I want to quit."
The man put a hand to his face and said,
"What do you want to quit?"
"Everything."
"Really? Do you know what it costs, good boy? Maybe you think of this place as your father's yard—come anytime you like, show yourself, and anything you dislike, kick your ass and leave it."
"I'll pay whatever it costs, but I won't stay here for a single day."
The man mocked him:
"And where is your desire for wings? How cowardly are you? You may be afraid of stealing."
"You are right. I am that coward who has come to learn a lesson of courage from a group of cowards..."
He didn't finish his words. The man punched a fist into his mouth. The wing-seeker man fell to the ground, and a corner of his lips bled. The man didn't say,
"You're a mouse, but your tongue is too long."
"And you're a crocodile who needs birds to clean the dirt inside your mouth. Now I know why you're raising them when you don't even have wings. Everything is under your head."
The man shouted again,
"Shut up."
Then he grabbed the collar of the wing-seeker man's shirt and punched him hard. The wing-seeker man's nose was bleeding continuously, but his mouth was still hot. He said those words he had held back all the time:
"Beat me. I don't care. I've always been afraid of it. I've been waiting to see where I'll be beaten, but I don't care anymore. Take back what you have given me. I'm disgusted by it now."
The man laughed loudly and said,
"Of course, I will."
Then he grabbed both wings of the wing-seeker man very tightly and pulled them out. The wing-seeker man cried out heartbreakingly. He felt all the pain that these wings had grown with—hurting and stealing people's bread, powerless to save the cheerful boy. He curled up on the floor in pain.
The man shouted,
"Go and roam the streets like a homeless dog."
Then, he kicked the wing-seeker man's stomach. He said,
"But don't worry too much; you were still a dog here, but a hunting dog."
He left there with a big laugh.
The wing-seeker man was in pain. His pain was all mixed up—the pain of his father's beatings, the insults, and the pain of his own mistakes. He cried loudly, weeping for all the hatred he had for his father, which was rooted deeply in his heart. For the regret of his behaviour of giving his mind to a vampire monster who had played with him like a puppet. He cried for the hurt he had caused those people he had dreamed of saving.
He cried and cried until there were no tears left. He washed away his pain and wounds with his tears. He felt he had returned to the start—for the first time he came for wings. He understood everything. He understood that his father's beatings were not because of his low grades and low voice but because he wanted to relieve his pain by beating others; he just looked for subtle excuses.
He understood that the day he shouted for wings, the pigeons didn't fly away because of his loud voice, but because they had no hope for him anymore. The man asked him to shout because he wanted to reveal how brainless he was. He understood that prayers for the achievement of great wishes are offered in quiet midnights.
But he decided to leave without any hatred. He decided to forgive his father and forgive all those who hurt him, including the man, because they taught him a good lesson that he should not take the wrong path again. That way, he could forgive himself, as they say: if you want to be forgiven, forgive.
He went to his friend, and on the way, he saw the old man who had witnessed the theft of his bread. He greeted him and asked how he was doing.
The old man replied,
"Thank God, I'm well."
The wing-seeker man, or rather we should say the wingless man, was surprised:
"How are you fine? That day, we saw how they stole your bread…"
The old man did not let him finish. He said,
"Thank God. It was your friend who helped me and gave me some of his bread and always takes care of me. God bless him."
The wingless man said to himself:
"And foolish me wanted to grow wings and follow him to the ends of the earth and bring back his bread."
Then he said to the old man,
"Oh, uncle, are you very angry with the man who stole your bread?!"
The old man said in a powerless voice,
"Son, stealing bread does not bring comfort. I do not think about my stolen bread anymore. God gave it to me and took it away for some reason. But the thief is uncomfortable day and night thinking of another thieving and another thieving. God has created people like these merciless wingers and kind people like your friend. Everybody is playing their role in the theatre of life."
The wingless man understood the old man's words very well and was thinking about his friend's actions. That day, he saw many other people whose bread had been stolen. They were helped by his friend. He apologized to many people he had drawn into the mud; some forgave him, and some needed time.
At the end of the road, he saw the young man from whom he had stolen the bread. He was working as enthusiastically as ever. The wingless man approached him shyly.
The young man said cheerfully,
"Tell me, brother, what do you want?"
The wingless man said,
"The truth is... I have come to apologize to you."
"Why? What happened?"
"...In fact, someone stole your bread a few days ago."
The young man laughed and said,
"So it was you, but now you don't have wings."
"I gave up... because I lived with them in shame."
The young man shook his head and said,
"Brother, be free; I forgive you. I stole an old man's bread one day, but he made me sick, and I lost all my wings. After that, I repented and swore to do my job with enthusiasm, not wanting wings or stealing someone else's bread. If you had gone back that evening, I would have told you that bread wouldn't be useful for you because God knows when and where He will take it back from you. Go, my brother; I stole it, and you got stolen from me. Now you're even."
The wingless man was amazed at God's plans. He went to a hill, looking at the legendary country where the winged humans were still flying over it, but his vision about wings had changed completely.
His friend appeared and came toward him. As always, he had a smile on his lips, but in the eyes of the wingless man, his friend had a big white wing that gave him enthusiasm. His friend put his hand on his shoulder, and beside him, he sat down and said,
"Well, is life without wings nice?"
The wingless man replied with a smile,
"Unmatchable."
They both laughed.
The wingless man said,
"Thank you for everything."
His friend replied,
"It was your choice. I only said two good words."
"So thanks for those two good words."
In that moment, a winged human flew past them. His friend asked the wingless man,
"Do you think that he is happy?"
The wingless man replied,
"I think you're happy."
His friend just nodded and responded with a smile.
So, tell me:
"Are you trying to change the world with or without wings?"