Who would you consider rich? And who would qualify as the richest?

See for yourself, if this son qualifies as the richest amongst anyone you already know or can imagine. Look closely and observe him. Read him if you can. He hardly grows old with ages to pass. As long as I can remember, he hasn’t aged a day. Have I been here for far too long?, or Is he immortal? Or am I? Whose son is he?

Obviously, he must have to be the Son to the richest father imaginable. Can you imagine one?

Looks like, on his last birthday the Son was presented with the wand of wishes by his father. A wand that looks like a pen and magical enough to grants anything and everything its master can ever desire for. Express your wish in a manner the wand can comprehend and see it come true. That’s all the truth the father ever taught his son. The Son was honest and obeyed father’s every wish and command. He figured out a way to make the wand understand his wishes and Voila! that's real. Not everything that is real is practical, and not everything that is practical is real.

Over time, wealth and affluence flooded the household with enough gold to nourish generations to come and go, for all foreseeable future. Life was so peaceful, that no one feared anyone, as no man alive in the neighbourhood of the richest Son could conceive of anything beyond real and present, here and now, at the whims and fancies of the Son. They all shared a wonderful life.

This is a day as the richest son ever alive, or shall ever live. He woke up. He desired a toy that can play with him forever. A boy toy presented itself out of no where. A toy that can dance to every tune the Son could fashion. He could do all tricks. Soon enough son got bored with the toy that he was destined to play forever. Now a days, the Son can be seen playing hide and seek from his toys. The toys hide in the closed and the Son rushes away from the home with his best friend who was his best fit, because the friend too was a product of wishes and desires of the Son.

By the time it was lunch boy expressed his desire for the healthiest food possible. Before, the eye blinked, delicious breakfast was served day in, day out. By dinner, the Son had a rich and diverse appetite. In night, there was light, the sun never set on the lands that knows no scarcity. Death was out of question. Age was not even a matter of numbers. It was not a compulsion to grow old and die. The Son was free to play and tweak the time and its line.

It was hardly a story, before the dad decided to die...

"What is death?" Son asked.

The richest and wisest father answered- " It's something that I have been training you through, all my life. Now is the time for you to define ‘Death’ for yourself and teach your child how to be inmortal someday."

The father never spoke a word again. I don't think he died. He just chose silence mustering all his free will. The thing that most mesmerises me is that even though the father never spoke there after, he always kept smiling. I wonder why?

May be because he wilfully chose to remain still for ever changing present. Or may be it was just a photo in a frame. It appears so real, looks like the Son has built a memory too strong that even others can see and feel his father walk by around them, every now and then. Everything that was heaven became haunted by the passage of memories strong enough to conjure a ghost out of the Deads.

But not even the deads or their ghosts bothers me anymore. What bothers me more is the Son. Will he grow old now, or choose to remain immortal? Did he read his father's wisdom wisely? Is he ready to choose death over desire? He still has the wand of wishes, and he can wish for anything, even an immortal presence, rich beyond imagination. Will he choose pain over pleasure? Is he an idiot? What will you wish for?

The son could still play with all possible space and time, it all just a story. Even life means something sequentially. Uncertainity is the anti-thesis of what’s called Death. Life is the only pattern worthy reading, not the books or the wisdom his father had written. The wand survives at the disposal and mercy of the richest son alive. Let’s see what world he designs for himself to live in?