Some said he was a fool. Others whispered he had left a throne behind. He never confirmed, never denied. When asked where he was going, he would smile and say, “To the place I have already been — but this time, awake.”
Below is a written as a short prose piece. Let me know if you’d prefer a different tone (more mystical, modern, or lyrical). Title: The Journey Fakir journey fakir
And somewhere, on a nameless road, the fakir laughed — because he had finally understood: he was not going anywhere. He was arriving everywhere. Some said he was a fool