Dear Diary,
I was late for promenade today; yeah a bit of scolding
and twenty rounds, and it was all before we had a trip to the town, finally A
BREAK!
Entering the city it was written ‘LA VIVA MEXICO’, and
just the view of it enchanted me. It was a holiday after … a lifetime it seems.
As soon as we were in the market, I broke off the cadre in to the bustling
streets. I felt the joy of a kid entering Disney Land, unable to decide the
ride he wants to take first. The market was huge, with pools of people pouring
in from every corner, vendors shouting and howling, colorful dresses, children,
and most importantly girls….they all seemed like people from different planet,
I was an alien there.
Amid the hustle and bustle of the crowd my eyes went
off to a couple standing on the right side of the cutlery shop. The girl was in
purple gown and the guy in blue t-shirt. The girl seemed to emanate an
everlasting glow. She was holding a red rose in one hand and the other
hand…well it was in the guy’s hand .Instantly I looked at my hands, fingers
resting on my prized possession My ’ MAVERICK-340’ –one shot and the
person’s head is blown away in to titters of flesh! I don’t know what happened,
I felt like throwing it away that time, my prized possession seemed like a
burden to me. Why guns in my hand? Was I the one who deserved the thorns in the
rose? I know these were idiotic questions, but they were bothering me….
I turned to the left and strolled on, locking those
questions in the basement of my heart. I was a soldier. It wasn’t a day to
waste, I moved on! There was a juggler brimming over his act, a fisherman
bargaining with a woman, it was all amazing, yet I felt like a thorn was struck
in my windpipe. The market was so different from my headquarters.
As I walked on my eyes caught a glimpse of a child
coaxing his mother for a balloon, I was smiling looking at the child’s
simplicity. In the meanwhile the chains on my hearts basement were sliding; the
basement was opening again, hurling newer questions this time… Where is my
mother? When did I last talk to her? Is she okay? Questions were zooming in
like zombies walking around as dead ends… I was like in a dream, standing on a
beautiful island, one second you see the beauty of the island and as you blink
your loneliness engulfs you. I was pulled back from the mystic tunnels of my
thoughts when I felt something soft in my hand…
I looked down, a small child was holding my finger,
the touch was so soft, so tender, the child’s eyes were full of mischief, yet
so naive! I was bending down to kiss him when his mother came and
picked him up hurriedly, and turned away belligerently, as if I was a murderer.
Didn’t I deserve a normal life? What was wrong in my uniform? The dress which
was the heartthrob of the nation suddenly was like a murder’s attire. I was
clueless… felt like the air was sucked away from my windpipe, I wanted to run
away from the market, the Disneyland became a nightmare for me…
Sitting now, I am thinking about all those
incidents, and I am all nostalgic now… it’s like I am falling in the whirlpool
of emotions and just can’t get a hold anywhere. I am a soldier, the one
protecting this nation, still I feel as if I am an intruder here. I can’t get
it, my happiness, accomplishment are all fading away. I felt like the human
inside me died far back, buried somewhere in the Alba-in chains of
duty and responsibility. The feelings of pride and honor persisting till last
night are all flushed away, and it’s like an intense state of fervor. The dead
bodies and the gore sight, the battleground now haunt me. It all comes back to
me, I feel like a missile shot from the Armour , but without an
aim…
I guess I will be able to console myself from this
outraging war inside me, I guess I could feel worthy again… I wait for tomorrow
with just emptiness crawling inside me…
“THE CRUSADER OF THE CIVIL WAR FEELS LIKE THE PRISONER
OF WAR!!”
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