Leonardo, sitting on the church floor, is hugging his knees. The side of his face is resting on them.
He raises his head, looks up, and finds a Jesus statue on a cross. He keeps watching it for a while. Jesus’s head is way down, like he is about to give his life for the people’s sin. That is the most poetic moment of Jesus’s life, Leonardo thinks. Leonardo looks back, and finds the church benches all empty; no people, no audience. He turns his head to look back at the Jesus statue, lonely and uncelebrated. Leonardo sees himself on the cross. We are so alike, he thinks. I get Him, He, the ultimate poet, must get me too.
Hopeless from everything else, Leonardo prays, for the first time in his life.
“Lord, you made me the great artist I am now! And you witness that I did nothing but celebrating your glory through art. My art is, however, unappreciated, so am I. I am not shallow like them to pray for fame, as true art will never be popular with the masses. But… but I wish there was at least some of your sheep who understood my art, and me through it, even a few would suffice, may be at least one. Lord, give me that one.”
“Sure, I’ll give it to you, you said one, right?”
Leonardo is shocked. His unbelieving eyes stare at the Jesus statue. Jesus’s head seems to be up now, looking directly at Leonardo.
“Over here Son!” A 50ish-year-old monk with a round, cute belly is responding. “Ha ha, just messing with you.” Leonardo, however, doesn’t seem to appreciate his humor.
The monk continues: “It always boils down to one damn person, doesn’t it? Oh, sorry, did I say damn? I retract.”
“What is your name Son?”
“Leonardo.”
“Leonardo, you remind me very much of Giuseppe. You know what happened to him, right?” The monk impatiently waits for Leonardo to say no.
“No. I don’t think I have met Giuseppe.”
The monk, quite satisfied, sits with an open posture on the stairs in front of Leo, between him and the Jesus statue.
“Giuseppe was a fine young man, like yourself.” The monk starts delivering his well-rehearsed lines.
He was not exceptionally handsome, tall, or rich, but he was fine. The fine man fell in love with a gorgeous, beautiful girl, as we all do, named Fiona. Fiona, however, was not an easy girl. Many were after her, and she knew damn well how precious she was. Yet, she saw something in Giuseppe, something special, something that made him distinct from the others, so she led him on. Days, weeks, and months passed by, and Giuseppe wouldn’t stop telling her of his love for her and how pure and true it is and he doesn’t want anything in this world but her.
One day Fiona said: “Alright, let’s see how true your love is. I will be yours if you could stand in front of our mansion for 100 days and nights. I will see you from my bedroom window, and I will send you a goodnight kiss from up there every night. In the morning of the 100th day, if you are still there, I will know for sure your love is true, and I will be yours, for all days to come.
“What did Giuseppe say?” Leonardo asks.
“He said yes, at once,” the monk responds.
He didn’t even think for a second. All he cared about was to prove his love to Fiona, and he didn’t care how big the challenges are that were placed before him, for he was truly in love. He went to the back of her father’s mansion, stood beside the wall, and stared up at Fiona’s window. The sun was scorching, but he didn’t mind; he just passionately stayed at the window, all day long. The night came, Fiona was back home, and Giuseppe watched her through the window. Fiona changed her clothes, and danced to a cheerful music, as Giuseppe was joyfully watching through her window. Before going to sleep, Fiona came to the window to check if Giuseppe was still there, and there he was. Fiona smiled, blew a kiss down to him, turned the light off, and went to her queen-size bed, alone. Giuseppe leaned back to the wall as he was standing, and dreamed of Fiona.
Tomorrow morning, Fiona, well rested, got off the bed, looked outside, and found Giuseppe still standing there, eagerly looking through the window. The days passed by, one after another, and Giuseppe stood by her window through wind, rain, snow, cold, and hail; every single night impatiently waiting for Fiona to appear in front of the window; Fiona before going to bed would check if Giuseppe is still there, and would blow him a goodnight kiss; until Day 99.
It was a lovely day, not too cold and not too hot. The sky was clear and blue, inspiring hope. Throughout the day, a refreshing breeze blew through his hair, kissed him on his tired forehead, and reminded him how beautiful life is. A big, genuine smile had surfaced on his face. The joy was coming from somewhere deep within him. The night came, and Fiona came to the window, and saw Giuseppe still standing outside but with a big smile on his face. He must be excited about tomorrow, the 100th day, she thought. She blew him a goodnight kiss, turned off the light, and lay in bed thinking how to greet Giuseppe tomorrow morning, on the last Day. Giuseppe, the big smile still on his face, turned away from Fiona’s window, and went back home.
“What?!” Leonardo exclaimed, shocked to his very core.
“True story.”
“Why?! There was only one night left. Why did he give up?”
“How would I know?”
“What?! Then what the… If… Then why are you even telling me the story?! This makes no sense, no sense at all.”
“Not a fan of subtle endings, huh? Alright, then I have the perfect story for you.”
“No, no no. No more stories from you, please! Can I just be alone?”
“Alone, like the great Zhong Fu?”
“Who is Kung Fu?”
“Zhong Fu, only the wisest monk in the whole of China.”
“Oh no,” Leonardo sighs.
“Listen up. It’s a true story. Krishna, a young Maharaja Kumar in India fell in love with Anushka…”