Flight of Icarus

There's a man standing there on the hill. His figure casts a silhouette in the backdrop of the rising sun, and he looks like an angel. Yes. An angel. Not by his countenance or his aura or anything so spiritual or supernatural. But because he has wings. Yes. Wings. When I see them spread as he spreads his hands out, I realize he's about to take off. And he takes that step over the ledge. For a moment, I run towards the edge, weighed down by my own wings, but then, suddenly he swoops up in the air like an eagle, wings flapping to assist his rise, the updraft helpiing him along and soar towards the open skies. He's a free man now.

Now it's my turn to walk my father's steps. Or should I say, FLY my father's path. I stand at the edge. Looking down is scary. It's pretty deep a drop from here. I don't think falling would be as musical as they say. Or even lyrical. Nopes. It would be plain horrid. I'm afraid. I do not want to take the leap. My father is a genius, and I see his genius at work even now when his wax wings have done the trick. But I'm still scared. I don't jump. I won't jump. I'll find another way out of this mess.

"Guards, there he is! Capture him!"

I turn back to see guards rushing at me, the red crests of their helmets fluttering in the wind. Their swords are unsheathed, glinting in the sun.

I turn back, and jump. Father had told me to flap gently and I did. I was scared. But the very first flap of my wings took me higher. Three more flaps and I was gliding away towards the sun. Towards the skies. Towards my father. Towards freedom!

It takes time to adjust and learn how to fly. But I'm a natural. I took to flying so easily, I started proudly smiling at my own abilities. Father is a genius, and his son is not a dolt either. I catch up with Father, who still warns me not to fly too low, or too high. I smile at him, nodding, and shout out that I'm not stupid. He smiles back.

But ahh, the thrill of flying. I swoop, soar, rise and glide. My heart calls out loudly to all the Gods and all the men, who never thought man could fly. We beat them all. I see the sun. It is majestic. Helios should be saluted. I fly higher to offer Helios my salutations. I don't see him yet, and so I fly higher. I feel hot. But I still fly higher to see Helios. The sun is glaring down at me as if to challenge how a mere mortal can come so close to him. I laugh it's glare down. I fly even higher.

It's getting harder to fly now though. I have to flap harder, faster. And that's when I notice that the wax holding my osier and willow wings together are melting. The twigs are giving way, creating holes in my wings. I lose control. I am now losing height.

I spiral away towards the sea rapidly. I can't do a thing to help myself. Somewhere in my mind, I can hear myself shouting. It's all surreal. Like a dream. I see my father trying to help me by holding me, but I'm too heavy for one set of wings to support. I fall.

I crash into the ocean. I don't know how to swim. I'm drowning. They say drowning is the most painful way to die. I think so too now. The last vestiges of air in my lungs give way. I feel my lungs being filled by water. I wonder if they would ever honour me. Maybe name the sea, and maybe even a small island after me.

I'm blacking out now. I see stars in the sea. Yes, stars in the water.

And my mind now only has two thoughts in it.

I love my father.

I could not salute the sun.

- Vinaykrishnan.