Destiny Ruled by Mind

By Tea Kbilashvili

There are no evil people, the same as there are no virtuous ones. Everyone is born with an inherent sense of good as well as with the evil reflected from the society. There are weak, strong, and extremely strong people. The existing conditions surrounding him impel a weak person to display all his weaknesses, while a strong person demonstrates his positive side despite adverse circumstances. And all the while, the strongest person creates his surroundings himself.

Don’t allow your fear to shatter your faith because it’s the struggle between fear and faith that determines one’s fate. And the outcome of their battle is one’s destiny.

Many can be kind when things are fine, but it’s important to show how kind you are when you have a reason to be resentful or bitter. Satan was an angel before his fall. It is the fall that proves if one really deserved being at the top.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jun 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781528972642

Tea Kbilashvili

Born in Gerogia, Tea Kbilashvili has been interested in the literature of human psychology and philosophy since childhood. Tea becomes happy by motivating people and supporting them, which has inspired her to become a writer. She is a member of Georgian Writers Creative Union. She graduated from Tbilisi State Medical University in faculty of paediatrics. She worked as a paediatrician for several years. Then she continued to study in the field of business administration. Today she is CEO of Dubai’s pharmaceutical company’s representation in Georgia. She lives in Tbilisi with her husband, son and daughter.

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About the Author

Born in Gerogia, Tea Kbilashvili has been interested in the literature of human psychology and philosophy since childhood. Tea becomes happy by motivating people and supporting them, which has inspired her to become a writer. She is a member of Georgian Writers Creative Union. She graduated from Tbilisi State Medical University in faculty of paediatrics. She worked as a paediatrician for several years. Then she continued to study in the field of business administration. Today she is CEO of Dubai’s pharmaceutical company’s representation in Georgia. She lives in Tbilisi with her husband, son and daughter.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my son, Zura Khizaneishvili, who has contributed greatly to my personal growth… Zura, I’m sure the faith in you will always win over the fear you might have and you will get your dream ‘fate’, because you are the strongest person who creates his desired surroundings himself. I’m much proud of you.

Copyright Information ©

Tea Kbilashvili 2023

The right of Tea Kbilashvili to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528950305 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528950312 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781528972642 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

Great thanks to ‘Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd’ for giving me a chance and for the greatest support. Thanks to everyone in my publishing team, who helped me so much. I highly appreciate your work, which is dedicated to my book.

I am grateful to each reader who gave me motivation. I know your time was important, thanks for giving it to my book. I hope it was worth it. I love you.

There are no evil people, the same as there are no virtuous ones. Everyone is born with an inherent sense of good as well as with the evil reflected from the society. There are weak, strong and extremely strong people. The existing conditions surrounding him impel a weak person to display all his weaknesses, while a strong person demonstrates his positive side despite adverse circumstances and all the while, the strongest person creates his surroundings himself…

Chapter 1

The Inner Struggle

Innate Against Acquired

The raindrops came down upon him softly and considerately as if they felt how hard it was for him to drag his heavy soul and decided not to burden him further. It was as dark around as inside him. If not for the ability of the human vision to adapt to darkness, he wouldn’t have been able to see the road. The ability is a true gift but only in extreme conditions and only temporarily.

As soon as it becomes a habit, one will only see an adapted desperate exit from thousands of seemingly resolvable situations. But at one point, the darkness can get so impenetrable that despite one’s wonderful gift of adaptation, one might find it impossible to continue moving forward. Even if you know exactly where you are heading, you will still need a free hand to get rid of hypothetical obstacles. But it can also turn out that you haven’t got a free hand because you have been dragging along the adapted rubbish that had accumulated for many years and you can’t discard it either.

You know all too well it’s useless, just a burden that slows your pace, but you can’t do without it. Even if there is someone else to give a helping hand, you will surely tire your companion if you refuse to discard it and soon you will be so exhausted as to lose any wish to move forward altogether.

His feet sensed his resolution and kept lagging behind. It was his mind that persevered and was worn-out most of all. Wrapped in mist, he was trying to tuck in even more, but his inner voice (now split in two) did not allow him to walk in peace. One urged him to go back, reasoning that it was possible to change everything if he really wished to; that there was no such thing as an unresolved problem and that he, just like any human, created problems himself. That any human has plenty of reasons to be happy, or the other way round. The main thing was which reasons one wills himself to see; that the world is one for everybody, painted in the same colours, but it is the perception that differs and that there is nothing impossible for a human, except that he has no idea of his own abilities and potential.

When that voice spoke in him, he would slow down. A sparkle of hope seemed to light up the darkness around him, but the other voice was quick to intervene in a harsh, authoritative tone, ‘Can’t you see you’re unlucky? Nothing works for you! You’ve been omitted from the list of the most successful. Your life is your destiny and you were destined to live this day too. You can’t change anything!’

The other voice sounded confident and imposing and we all know how a confident manner can undermine the truth itself. The voice was right. He was a loser and everybody was to be blamed for his miserable life. Even God had forsaken him.

It is human nature. It is easier to blame others for your ‘lack of luck’ – mother, father, wife – anyone in fact except oneself. Ideally, lay responsibility on destiny or God.

***

He was seven. It was New Year’s Eve.

He slipped the letter under his pillow hopefully but more with dread. His fear seemed to have intensified compared to previous years, probably due to his experience. It had to because there is no fear without experience. Children are never afraid of anything or anyone until their own or someone else’s experience shows them that it is to be feared and after that they feel fear till they realise that it is ‘the fear’ itself one should be afraid of. For most, the entire lifetime isn’t enough to comprehend the simple truth.

As soon as he woke up, he slipped his hand under the pillow. He could hear his heartbeat. Fear and doubt were stronger than his hope; and when one fears.

He felt the folded piece of paper and hopelessness, or the other way round, first despair and then the paper. Time had stopped; he wanted to cry, but he didn’t. The trait was not innate but he could not recall when he acquired it.

He tore the letter into tiny pieces and fell asleep with a sense of guilt.

The sound of quarrel woke him up. His parents were arguing loudly, as usual. He shifted awkwardly, wrapping himself in the comfort of his blanket. He couldn’t say when or how the quarrel ended. Probably fell asleep again. Most likely their row ended as it always did: his mum and dad even more convinced in their separate truths and how unfairly they had been treated by life. But they had to reconcile with it because they did not wish ‘their boy to suffer if they separated’.

Little did they know that it was Santa who caused their beloved boy’s suffering most of all.

***

The last stretch was the hardest. He turned left. He was getting nearer. His patience seemed to diminish together with the distance he had to cover. The closer he got, the more edgy he became. He could see the bridge now; ten paces, nine, eight. His heartbeat quickened and his fear mounted together with it.

‘Are you afraid by any chance, Gabriel?’

‘People are usually afraid to lose something or someone. I’ve already lost everything, so what should I be afraid of?’

‘Not everything, Gabriel. You haven’t lost all your desires and that’s called life.’

‘Why should I be afraid of losing something I don’t need?’

He went to the railing. The river rolled the waves with such ferocity as if anyone could have doubted its might.

He remembered his mum’s words: ‘If you succumb to the flow, the river will drag you, toss you onto the rocks and reefs. If you try to swim against the flow, you’ll just get tired and won’t be able to get far, and will surely have less chance of survival. But if you move along the flow, the river will eventually carry you to a safer place where the current is slow. Besides, you’ll enjoy the soft touch of fresh water. The current doesn’t hinder your movement. Quite the opposite, it helps you because you feel lighter and you can reach further. Even if you’re in an unruly current, when you feel you’re in trouble and you can’t overcome it, imagine a peaceful place the river is going to take you to. Be guided by your strong desire to reach it.’

He wondered if Mum meant that kind of current. If you’re not strong and good at swimming, you won’t survive in it.

Everyone has a huge potential but uses it in accordance with their motivation. Survival looks possible depending on how strong one’s desire is. Mum would have said so.

He stared at the river, fixedly. He had seen it before, many times – calm, clear, fresh, unruffled. Now the discovery shocked him. The same river can be the safest and the wickedest, the most tranquil of all and the most violent, lightest and darkest, pleasurable and destructive, changing its nature together with the weather.

Again he was reminded of his mum’s words: ‘Son, there are no evil people, the same as there are no virtuous ones. Everyone is born with an inherent sense of good as well as with the evil reflected from the society. There are weak, strong and extremely strong people. The existing conditions surrounding him impel a weak person to display all his weaknesses, while a strong person demonstrates his positive side despite adverse circumstances. And all the while, the strongest person creates his surroundings himself.’

***

He was woken by his mum’s warm hand caressing him gently, ‘Wake up, love. Did you sleep well?’

‘I did, Mum.’

She embraced him lovingly.

‘Mum, do you know why is it that Santa refuses to bring me presents? Do I misbehave or do something wrong?’

Something seemed to drop heavily inside her body, dangled on the cord of conscience of her heart, then lifted it and stuck it in her throat.

‘He didn’t take my letter, again.’

Only worried about the well-being of her son, it was him that she had neglected. Not even death could justify it. The cord of conscience summoned her mind and shoved the sense of heaviness away. It saved the cord from snapping because she had to compensate for her sin of selfishness.

‘Listen sonny, Santa has to collect millions of letters written by kids like you. Probably, he had no time to get yours. You’re the best boy ever and he knows it. He also knows how patient you are, so he might have decided to give gifts to more impatient children. But please don’t think that you’ll get overseen because of your patience. No, my love, that’s not true. The more patient you are, the more you’ll get even without asking!’

‘Mum, I’ve been waiting for many years.’ His features tensed as if he was ready to cry, but no tears came.

I wish I were dead, then everything would end too – her selfishness stepped in the struggle.

‘Probably, you didn’t believe as strongly as you had to, sonny. Your wish hasn’t reached Santa, so now you’ve got to make a wish with all your strength. And you must strongly believe that you deserve a present. Put your letter under your pillow and trust me, he’ll take it tonight and you’ll get your present. Everything depends on your belief!’

In the roar of the inner battle she could hardly hear her own voice.

‘Yes, Mum, but I’ve torn the letter.’ He was deeply saddened.

‘Have you? That was another mistake, my dear. Never give up your dreams so easily sonny, and never surrender so quickly! Let’s write another one. Get a pen and a piece of paper, will you?’

He sprang from his bed. He had never been so happy before. His mum the opposite: she had never been so miserable.

‘Mum, what do you want Santa to bring you? I’ll write two of my dreams and one of yours.’ He was ready to sacrifice one of his wishes for the sense of gratitude he felt.

‘No, all three wishes are yours sonny. I’m not a kid anymore, so he won’t bring me anything. Don’t lose one of your wishes for nothing.’ She felt a sense of undeserved gratitude.

‘I’ll still write. Please tell me something.’ True gratitude is marked with stubbornness.

‘Okay. I want my son to be happy. I wish Santa to bring him so much happiness that he wouldn’t be able to hold it inside and so he would spread it around him. I wish my son’s eyes to reflect the happy faces of those around him.’

‘Those are three wishes, Mum!’

‘You’re right.’

‘Then I’ll write him to bring you happiness.’

‘You, not me!’

‘But he’ll bring it to me too, won’t he?’

‘He’s already brought it to me – you are my happiness.’

***

Happiness! Sounds great but sadly, it’s only created for how it sounds. Sadly, it doesn’t exist in the present and except some brief moments; a person perceives it only as a past experience, which makes it even more depressing for the present. It’s interesting to find out which emotion or experience the creator of the word wanted to express. Most likely not the one that is rendered through the adorned sounding of the past centuries.

’Our perception either makes the same sounds uglier or more beautiful, Gabriel. Affected by the norms, perceptions are often the same. It’s also due to the norms that we