Sunday, March 15, 2009

Brave Man- A Monologue

The choices between life & death never seemed this trivial,I remember just a few days ago telling my friend,

"It is better to die a brave death then to lead an average life."

Now when I can look into the eyes of death do I realize,the value of each passing second.No, I am not afraid of death,no.But a few seconds or hours may be days wouldn't be mind.There are many things still to be done many jobs pending.But life its a strange gift,you don't realize its worth till it whizzes past.

Ever since the morning there was firing & I could not fathom where to point my gun where to fire. I would not say I was brave Or anything but I surely was the aim of a few bullets & Some Of them succeeded.I write this as I can See the angels Of death smiling at me,I write This as I can see my whole Life Going Past Me in A flash.But I have things to talk about.

Father,the relations between a father & son are never covered with words,they are more about understanding & most Of the communication is done through the mediator,mother.Dad,I still long for those days,when as a kid you taught me To ride a bicycle,whenever The Cycle lost its balance, I always found you Holding it from behind.

Pa & now when I have lost the balance,I still want to see you coming & holding me.I miss those hugs of yours,which you gave me whenever you returned from office,As a kid That Was the most cherishable treasure you gave me.But as I grew up,The hugs became Scarce,even the words exchanged between us turned as economical as possible.

I wonder why that happens because,ever since I understood the world the only thing I ever wanted to achieve was a smile on your face,for me,my achievements & that Was the hardest to get.I always emulated you,The way I walked,I talked,even when my school Football team was being selected I enrolled myself as a goal-keeper just Because You were one,when I knew I was much better as a striker.But I missed on the trials,then I cried for hours in the bathroom,I felt I let you down.

You were my ideal Dad,the man I wanted but could Never be.In death I can see you smile,the same smile I always Wanted from you,don't think its Too late,I saw it,i can see it.But Pa when the war is over & everybody picks Up the loose threads of there lives,promise me That you will do the same.I love You baba,I always did,just could Never say it.

Ma, I am afraid of you really frightened,You are the Only person I am afraid of making Cry but i know it is you,who will cry the most.You even Cried when I got my knees scratched playing in the compound of our house.

I know You could Never understand Why I had to go & fight & kill people I don't even know,I haven't even seen,& I always said to you,this is how it is done,But the truth is I never understood it myself.

As I am Lying Down here the Thing I Miss most is not war or blood but,you,your voice,the way you called me,the way you made me eat out of your hands,if i could just sleep On your lap one Last time,If i could just see you smile One Last time.What should I say to you,what can i say to you,even i love you seems Less,some of your dreams would die with me.

Mother It is not about me dying That is consternating me the most it is about the death of little bit of you with me & i know That there are no word in this world which have the ability to soothe you.they say when you die,You go to GOD,but anyplace without you,Can it be Godly Ma? I Am sorry Ma,I am sorry.

They say brave soldiers die for the country,but the truth is nobody absolutely nobody wants to die.It is a truth I have understood here.

Last night one of my colleague showed me the picture of his three years old daughter,seeing the picture I looked into his eyes,then we cried,cried for a long time without uttering a word.

Bravery,pride are very important but who would tell this to a three year old or even my half a century old Ma.I can see that friend,lying besides me here his folded hands still has that picture.I hope this blood stained picture of a three year old when goes back would tell people the reality of war.
War,what did war gave me?My family?Anybody?No war is ever for good,no peace is ever for bad.

I am breathing but the breathing is heavier,I can see reinforcements,may be I should shout,perhaps they'll save me."Hello,I Am here...."

4 comments:

Shruti Mukundan said...

seriously donno what to say... its really a very touching post.. n the love u have for ur parents, its truely appreciable.

cutestangel said...

Beautifully written.
"To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die."

http://cutestangel.wordpress.com/

soc_lone said...

It canot get any better than this...a soldier with his grievances about not able to serve his beloved country any more, the same soldier providing a shoulder for a collegue to cry upon, a son who could not tell his parents, especially his father, that how much he loved him(them)...
A lot of us sons can picture ourselves in this short and humanly touching letter from a soldier, a son and a friend...really Raj, it cannot get any better than this...beautifully written, and very nicely sumed-up..letting the reader decide upon that whether the 'reinforcements' were humans, or some heavenly ones...

gaurav said...

its really good but i love the fathers part the most, keep this good work on buddy