The morning began like any other.
The sun slowly rose above the fields, spreading warm light across the village. Farmers were already working, and the smell of fresh food drifted through the narrow streets.
But inside Arihant's house, the atmosphere was unusually tense.
His father sat quietly near the doorway, his face serious. His mother moved around the kitchen silently, avoiding eye contact.
Arihant immediately sensed that something was wrong.
"What happened?" he asked.
His father looked at him for a moment before speaking.
"We need to talk."
Those four words made the air feel heavy.
Arihant sat down across from him.
His father sighed.
"You are twenty now," he said. "It is time to start thinking seriously about your future."
Arihant listened carefully.
"I already spoke with a trader in the town," his father continued. "He needs an assistant in his shop. It is a good opportunity. If you work hard, you can earn well."
Arihant remained silent.
Working in the market was the normal path for most young men in the village. It meant financial stability and respect.
But recently, his mind had been moving in a completely different direction.
His father continued speaking.
"Later, we can arrange your marriage. After that, you can build your own family."
The words sounded ordinary.
Simple.
Practical.
But for some reason, Arihant felt a strange discomfort inside.
He remembered the conversations in the library.
He remembered the old man's words about inner enemies and the path toward freedom.
Was it possible to walk that path while living a normal life?
Or were the two directions completely different?
---
Arihant carefully chose his words.
"Father," he said slowly, "have you ever wondered what the real purpose of life is?"
His father looked slightly confused.
"What kind of question is that?"
"I mean… beyond work, money, and family," Arihant explained.
His father's expression changed.
"Those things are life," he said firmly.
Arihant hesitated.
"But what if there is something more?"
The room suddenly became silent.
His father looked at him with concern.
"Have you been reading those strange philosophical books again?"
Arihant did not answer immediately.
His father stood up.
"Listen to me carefully," he said. "Thinking too much about these things can make a person useless in the real world."
He pointed toward the village outside.
"Everyone here works hard to survive. That is reality."
Arihant understood his father's perspective.
From his father's point of view, security and responsibility were the most important things in life.
But Arihant's mind could no longer ignore the questions that had awakened inside him.
---
Later that day, Arihant walked toward the library again.
His thoughts were heavy.
When he entered the building, the old man was already there, as if he had been expecting him.
"You look troubled," the old man said.
Arihant sat down.
"My father wants me to start working in the market," he explained. "He also talked about arranging my marriage."
The old man listened quietly.
"And what do you want?" he asked.
Arihant looked down at the table.
"I don't know," he admitted.
A part of him wanted to make his parents happy.
But another part of him felt drawn toward something deeper—something beyond ordinary life.
The old man nodded slowly.
"This is your second lesson."
"Second lesson?" Arihant asked.
"Yes," the old man said.
"The first enemy you faced was anger."
He paused before continuing.
"The second enemy is attachment."
Arihant thought about that word carefully.
Attachment to family.
Attachment to comfort.
Attachment to social expectations.
The old man continued speaking.
"Attachment is not always bad. Love for family is natural. Responsibility is important."
"Then why is it considered an obstacle?" Arihant asked.
The old man smiled gently.
"Because attachment becomes dangerous when it controls your choices."
He leaned slightly forward.
"In the philosophy of Jainism, attachment binds the soul to the cycle of birth and death."
Arihant listened carefully.
"When someone completely removes attachment and all other inner enemies," the old man continued, "the soul moves toward the state of Moksha."
"And those beings become…" Arihant began.
"Arihant," the old man finished.
"And eventually Siddha."
The familiar words now felt heavier than before.
Because this time, the lesson was not theoretical.
It was personal.
---
The old man suddenly asked another question.
"If you follow your parents' expectations, will your mind become peaceful?"
Arihant thought about it honestly.
"No," he admitted.
"And if you ignore your parents completely, will your mind remain peaceful then?" the old man asked.
Arihant realized the difficulty of the situation.
Both choices created conflict.
The old man nodded knowingly.
"That is why the path of truth is not easy."
He stood up slowly.
"Do not rush your decision," he said. "But remember one thing."
"What is it?" Arihant asked.
The old man looked directly into his eyes.
"A person who truly wishes to understand life must be ready to walk a path that others may not understand."
---
That evening, Arihant sat on the rooftop again.
The stars slowly appeared in the dark sky.
He thought about his parents.
He thought about the path of ordinary life.
And he thought about the distant goal of becoming a liberated soul.
For the first time, he understood something clearly.
The journey toward becoming Siddh would require difficult choices.
And sooner or later, he would have to decide what kind of life he truly wanted.
The night remained silent.
But deep inside Arihant's mind, the next step of his journey was slowly beginning to take shape.