It gives a beautiful perspective of how to think during a war, can one think at all? If you do, you are a master. If you don't, a slave you are. Well, a slave to whom/what? A slave to your own misery and a castle around it. Built so tall that if you jump from it, you will die. But if you climb and stay there on top, you are an achiever. You win. Its not a great deal of distance between the feeling of fresh air and tangles of death but it's a great deal about what you actually want. Embrace changes around and within you or ignore it, to get used to it. Well I shall leave it to a hopeless/hopeful reader and the writer self.
I came across an adorable and emotional piece of work, an account of someone's life and the expression of joy and sadness at the same time giving out a sense of belongingness, yet sadness in its own sense. It actually prompts me to write my version of a story. A story filled with jolly rides and lone castles. A story confusing enough to make any sense at the end of the day but worth writing.
Few years ago, a girl wanted so much from her life and freedom from expectations all around her, that she, decided to join the war. Not everyone gets to be in the war but she tried managing home and qualifying for the war. She pushed beyond certain boundaries and voices to finally start a journey to war. Well, who wants a journey to war? Absolutely brainless! But she felt freedom to fight was way better that bound to win. Boundaries never made her feel like an achiever. She chose the battlefield upon her home ground. She moved ahead with conviction and perseverance to explore her survival skills. Challenge was what she was working on. She was a peaceful girl but why did she chose the war? I think it is utterly senseless. I think she was to acquaint herself with the other side of herself. A vis-a-vis with her reflection.
Days, months, years passed by. She was happy preparing for the war, won small battles, sometimes alone, sometimes surrounded. Didn't matter. It was still survival. She was preparing for 'the War'. It was to come. The weather had to b right. The opponents had to be in the right frame to fire. She was to be in her perfect self. But it between something happened. A rose flower looked so appealing in the battlefield that for a fleeting moment the war seemed ridiculous. he purpose lost, conviction broken and she? Well she went to pick the flower up. She didn't want the rose to be crushed by the arms and legs. She started growing rose alongside, took care but she was loosing conviction on the war! That wasn't right! That wasn't her! She was ought to be free. She had to fight. The rose helped her gain the conviction. After all, roses are best remembered with thorns. On a fine day, the thorns grew evident, rose was dead. Conviction took its time but was revived and fresh. She learned a lot by nurturing the rose again a war time. She knew, it was not just her who saw the rose, there were others who saw it too. But she gained back her pride, many did not.
Few days before the real war, she was sinking into the feeling of a real fight on the field when she encountered a soldier. This soldier looked calm for a war but since he was chosen, he surely was fighter. She didnot care but passed by. On a tiny corner of her head, she realized that the eyes of the soldier formed an imagery. Something one wants to see but can't due to less clarity. She hated haze. She wanted to form a better image. She had a problem. She couldn't stand emotions. But she wanted them too. Conflict you see. She met the soldier, this time with a purpose and not by accident. She tried to form that image. There was still an air of conflict and confusion but she couldn't have let the thought die down. She was practical but absolutely crazy. She met him, they ate, they drank, they talked, they wrote, they talked more, they wrote more, they thought more and more and they both formed a reliable image of each other. I dont know if that was her destiny but it moved like a fire, the motivation of a war, the belief in freedom made them dependent on each others training. Now they wanted to fight together. Could they? I don't know!
The war is on. It shall be over soon I heard. They are together.. fighting for it, I heard too. They fight it out with tears, smiles, anger, longing, touch, love and pain. I heard they like it. I heard them say that it is worth fighting for together than alone. It actually relieves you from jumping off the castle and brings in hope to breathe fresh air on top. For some reason, you are bound to each other. Not good not bad. But emotion. She hated emotion, yeah. But she wanted it too. She choses to let go of the roses and thorns but embrace them not alone this time but with a companion. The change is here, Battle is still on. Difference? Well, they have to go a long way. Many miles, many roses, many thorns, many battles, no predictions. Only emotion. Only love.
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