Prelude

Months after it began, I felt I’d already died. Like one day I had opened my eyes and woken up to blood smeared all over my body and a few dead people lying around me. For a moment I could not understand why was I here; fighting for a cause I did not believe in and for a master I did not know. But a queer, distant force had thrown me into this belligerent commotion and there was no escape but to pick up arms and fight.

When I got on my knees to have a bird’s eye view of the parched, dust laden field I was standing on, there was nothing but a rough land stretching far down every direction. And darkness blanketed the sky where, somewhere in the faded strands of my memory, once glinted the sun. The imminent threat of what was about to pass for a seemingly long time made my heart heavy with grief and even in the coming years, amongst all the steely clinks of swords and the bashing of shields, I’d often pause and look around for a kind exchange – but all in vain.

For years I got so accustomed to the torrid heat, unremitting anguish, dark and threatening crevices with no end, desolate, cold nights with no repose that now when I stand staring at a waning sun, I do not know how to behave. I haven’t experienced tranquility in a very long time, and uneasiness seems to have settled in the narrowest slits of my mind.

Somewhere I once heard, assurance cures uneasiness; assurance from whom, I wonder. 

I’ll tell you how it was; hold on for a little longer. A queer game this is and by the time you learn how to play by its rules you’re already on the brink of incorrigible collapse. You learn the art of carrying the burden of helplessness and masking it with pride. You learn how to sit still and hear the world around you softly mewling for help. You learn to appreciate recluse corners.

You begin to look up to the sky often, like a pair of bright, celestial hands would pick you up someday and take you far away-far from all the bedlam.

You start nursing hopes of divine help. Any help. You excel at constructing impressive facades- after all, they’ve protected you all this time. Initially, you try to talk about it, to the ones fighting alongside. But slowly you feel derided and just .. not understood enough, so you shut down, turn inwards and find a listener within.

This is how I fought and waded through years of noise and unrest.

seaside-384659_960_720

But now, I’m entranced, reader.  It’s almost like an ending of a long nightmare. I gaze with longing and gratitude at the freckles of grey clouds dotting the bruised evening sun. A warm rain might wash away some of this angst. A gush of fresh rain sweeps the field and I realise I’m still clinging tightly to my armour, so I let go and take a long whiff of the petrichor rising from the moist earth.

Dismally gazing at the distance I think of who I used to be before the war. I make a silent promise to scour her in the deepest of corners and pull her back. But the question is,

Has anybody who has ever been through war, returned unchanged?

____________________________________________

Note- I’ve noticed many of you have been sharing my posts on Facebook. The numbers have been increasing ever since! I’m grateful for the kindness and I thank you so much for this.  

But somehow, WordPress doesn’t give me the liberty to know who all share my posts on other platforms. So if you do share it, please let me know in the comments section. I’d love to thank you in person.

____________________________________________

Love always,

Your blogger.

Advertisements

11 thoughts on “Prelude

  1. This was amazing Aakansha. You continue to astound me with your writing. Your language is so creative-equally forthright and mysterious. Excellent post yet again…I’m beginning to repeat myself about your work I fear!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so much Robert. And no please. I really look forward to your comments, I mean it! They’re meaningful and sincere​. 🙂
      I’ve been away from WordPress for almost a month. Had my finals to clear so was all cramming in books.
      It was after a long time I was able to sit and write peacefully. So this appreciation is HIGHLY welcomed.
      How have you been?

      Liked by 1 person

      • Oh cramming for finals…how I do not miss those days but its good to see you back in any event! I’ve bern better to tell you the truth. Long story but work and a few other things have me feeling very stressed and burned out really, but spring should help that I hope gradually 😄

        Like

  2. Another amazing piece from someone I’m beginning to expect ONLY amazing pieces from (no pressure here : ). Seriously though, it was captivating from the start, and as an avid gamer, it clearly brought to mind many of the scenarios that I have pictured my various “heroes” finding themselves in at the end of a long day/campaign. And if your prose is good enough to stimulate in my mind colorful images of “Michael Stormcloude” (my character in “The Elder Scrolls”), it is certainly of a high enough quality for this fan of yours.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Mr. David. Now since you’re one of my favorite readers, here’s a small secret.

      The things I write are often puzzles that are talking about something else entirely.
      Try and unmask them sometimes. I’d love to know what you decipher. 🙂

      How’s the new place? Are you still settling all your luggage?

      Liked by 1 person

      • Thanks for asking. I’m pretty well settled in (except for getting my books re-shelved). As for your challenge, puzzles have never been my strong suit, but I will certainly have to give it a good try. I like challenges even more than puzzles.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Aak, I can’t help thinking that this beautifully written post masks the ‘true’ subject you are talking about. And then I glanced at some of the comments and was pleased to see that I was entirely correct in my assumption. Not wanting to sound too smug – you, my dear are a fine soldier! I hope that the battle was not in vain …

    Liked by 1 person

What are your thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s