Dihan is a delightful rapture. He dwells on the land and makes his office up in the vivid and vast sky. The feeling of intense and overwhelming ecstasy evaporated into the outskirts of his immediate surroundings is a gleeful mirth that flies into the Mediterranean skies through which he flies.
When the Wright brothers invented the Wright Flyer, Dihan was nowhere; though the remarkable Wright brothers were in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina as they achieved their first ever triumphant powered flight almost a century and two decades ago, Dihan was nowhere. By the time World War II began in Europe on the first day of September 1939, Dihan was nowhere during this part of autumn.
As Shakespeare wrote, ‘The Tempest’, his last play written as the sole playwright around 1610-1611 during the reign of King James 1, Dihan was nowhere. When Charles Dickens completed penning Great Expectations in between 1860 and 1861 during England’s Victorian Age, Dihan was nowhere.
He has no recollection on Dickens’s protagonist Pip’s journey. However, Dihan is my synonym for a man of Victorian principles. When T.S Eliot became a celebrated poet with the publication of ‘The Waste Land’, his most famous poem in 1922, Dihan was nowhere; he complains me of my bleak and bitter love for poems.
At the time, Ernest Hemingway became the recipient for The Nobel Prize in Literature 1954 for his ever celebrated fiction The Old Man and the Sea, Dihan was nowhere; he deliberately steers himself away from reading fictions.
In 1854, when English poet Lord Tennyson wrote The Charge of the Light Brigade, one of his most famous poems, composed on the Battle of Balaclava during the Crimean War, Dihan was nowhere. As American confessional poet Sylvia Plath finished writing Daddy, one of her most radical and emotional poems, Dihan was nowhere; he protests over myself being confessional as much as Plath had been prior to her suicide.
As Virginia Woolf gave birth to ‘A Room of One’s Own’, ‘The Waves and To the Lighthouse’, a few among so many of her award winning books, Dihan was nowhere, he has hardly heard of her.When Maxim Gorky revolutionised the world of fiction writing with Mother, his ever famous novel, translated into may languages, Dihan was nowhere; however, it is a delight and a fact to hear that he is his mother’s boy and the apple of her eye too.
Towards the time that Peter Carey, J. M Coetzee, Hilary Mantel and J. G. Farrell, cherished authors who have twice been awarded with the prestigious The Booker Prize, introduced their influential masterpiece to the reading public around the world, Dihan was nowhere; he has never gifted me at least one of those remarkable books.
When Willam Shakespeare composed sonnet 18, Shall I Compare thee to a Summers Day-one of the best known of his 154 sonnets, Dihan was nowhere; as I share the Bard’s these incredibly crafted words with him, he runs into dead silence whilst enjoying a self-imposed seclusion that would eventually block my space of getting in touch with him.
As Albert Einstein won the Nobel Prize in Physics 1921, Dihan was nowhere; he, however, treasures the recipient, as the principles introduced by the great scientist are indispensable in comprehending as to how an aircraft flies from take-off to landing. By the time John Madden directed Shakespeare in Love, a romantic comedy film, Dihan was nowhere; his laptop refuses to play the movies in which I am interested.
When Robert Frost penned ‘The Road Not Taken’ and ‘Nothing Gold Can Stay’, two of his captivating poems among many, Dihan was nowhere; he finds no time for poems and his obsession lies on the birds with two feathers. As Gustave Flaubert’s ‘Madame Bovary’ faced with huge destructive criticism against its revolutionary protagonist, Dihan was nowhere; he neither reads a synopsis on the fiction nor did he appreciate the author.
Despite Dihan not being anywhere right throughout my piece of writing, he has been everywhere in every piece of my soul. A clap of thunder is my metaphor for his smile. I pick him up in my dreams, and while carrying his image, I still ramble through the most abundant and affluent paradises; I go elsewhere and return to him. He and I ultimately go nowhere.
