Far out in the ocean, there was this whale lonely enough to keep swimming. He neither knew where he was heading towards nor preferred to know. So his daily existence was best summed up by the waves he encountered and the coterie of little fish who hanged on to his skin for survival. He didn't mind them—who doesn't like a bit of silent company? After all, he too hanged on to the water hoping not to sink anytime soon. In this manner, life went on for a long while. Unlike other creatures in his vicinity, he appeared content with his wet solitude. There was nothing to seek now or miss later.
This status quo was about to change.
Our dear whale, for the first time in his dramaless lifetime, came upon an island right in the middle of the ocean. An island so calm and pristine that he couldn't believe his senses. He had heard rumours of land but this was the first time his tiny eyes actually saw a piece of it. What enchanted him more was the way the island behaved in the strongest of gale or the harshest of sun. It had little to say but so much to share. Hardly anything seemed to disturb its composure. There was an unmistakable halo of green prosperity. Too true to be false. As expected, there was a desire to touch it but he drew better plans. Having found home, he kept encircling the island. Don't know why but for a change, he knew where he was going.