FOR THE PEACE
With every step he took towards the building, his heartbeat grew louder. He stopped behind a rock, crouched and rested the tip of his M16 in the snow. Slowly turning his head, he looked for his team. They were right behind him, hidden well behind rocks and bushes. For a moment, even he didn’t notice them all. Their newly provided custom dark night combat suits were a miracle, made especially for operations in the dark of the night and icy terrain like this. He raised his neck higher, took a quick look at the building and got back to his position. It was a wooden bungalow. From where he stood he could only see two rooms, only one of which was lit. The snow beneath his feet had started to melt. The melted snow penetrated his shoe and spread an icy sensation through his feet. Take a deep breath…. focus, focus for your country, for the world, for your brothers, for your sisters, for the innocents, for the weak, for humanity, for the peace.
He took three deep breaths. Raised his assault rifle again, rested its butt on his shoulder and checked that it was loaded. He raised his palm and signaled. Within a flash, all the six of his team members came out of hiding. Snowflakes lying on the ground lost their perfect shape as his team stepped on them. With controlled pace and each step carefully taken, the silence of the night remained untouched.
He had been in the field many times. In both of his tours to Afghanistan, he had lived many moments like this, had survived every mission and had outlived every single one of his enemies. But today something felt wrong, something was just not right. He heard his own voice calling him, telling him to turn back. And for some reasons he wanted to. He wanted to abort this mission and head back to the base, but he didn’t. His hand groped for the trigger even when it was just there, his other hand tightened around the upper receiver of his M16. Focus, focus for the country, for the world, for your brothers, for your sisters, for the innocents, for the weak, for humanity, for the peace.
The only sound that reached his ears was of his own heart pounding, pounding so hard as if it was trying to come out of his chest. Turn back, don’t go inside, a voice inside him said. Fear crawled inside of him. He felt sweat trickle down his neck, his hands shook. He tried to stop and turn back, but his legs didn’t answer to him, they kept moving. He was sweaty, his suit stuck to his skin as if it was a part of his own. No… I don’t want to…. Stop, stop. Words didn’t come out of his mouth. He looked around and the only thing he saw was the door of the house. Everything else around him was a shadow. He saw dark shadows creeping towards him, trying to enter his mind and torment his soul. He gasped for breath as a shadow crept forward…. Stay away, stay back, STAY BACK!! Leave me alone.
“Sir?” the voice brought him back to his senses, it was of one of his men. They were standing right in front of the door of the house. The soldier standing before the door looked at him, waiting for the signal. Still not sure of what was happening, he nodded in approval. The soldier counted from three. Three… two… one. The old wooden door with cracks blew wide open with the soldier’s kick. Raising his rifle, he entered inside. His hands were steady, his eyes searching for the movements and finger ready to pull the trigger. Only the ghostly silence welcomed him inside, broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, and the metallic sound of a gun falling on the ground. The footsteps grew louder and he saw a man coming out with an AK47 in his hand. His hands, without waiting for his conscious command, pulled the trigger. Bullets burst through the muzzle and pierced the man’s chest. He had been pleased by this shot in the past, but not this time. Now, it just haunted him. He stopped, his ears searching for a sound. He still remembered what his trainer had taught him in the first week of his training, ‘Out there it is not only the eyes which you need to see from but also your ears. A sound you missed can be the last sound you had a chance to hear.’ A few moments passed and he trembled. He knew what was going to happen. He remembered. No, please no. He pleaded as he tried to turn back. He tried to get out of the house but his body didn’t listen to him. He stood there with his rifle raised and waited.
The time seemed frozen, every moment like an eternity. And then, he saw it. A rifle’s muzzle coming out of the half turned door of another room. He tried to spin away but couldn’t, shadows bound his legs and hands in position. He wanted to cry and run but nothing happened. As soon as half the body part of the rifle bearer came in sight, his instincts told him to pull the trigger. He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to do this again but he saw his own fingers curl around the trigger and pull it. NO! He wanted to shout but the words stayed frozen in his throat. There was a loud sound of bullets being fired and then a thud of a body falling on the ground. The constant ringing sound in his ears disoriented him. Finally, when it ended, he found himself walking toward the body. He stepped forward, passed the first body and took steps toward the other. As he advanced, his shoes, dabbed in the blood of the first man, left a trail of red footsteps on the floor.
His heart was pounding faster than ever, and his hands were shaking when his eyes turned towards the legs of the dead man. Then they turned and he saw the white coat stained with blood and at the last, a punctured chest with four to five bullets. He was scared, scared to look at it again. He tried to look away but his eyes did not. They rested upon the face. Gasping for air, he screamed, “NO!!!”
He woke up with his own scream ringing in his ears. He was covered in sweat, from brow to the soles of this feet. He looked around and realizing he was in his own bed, sighed. Throwing away the blanket, he rolled out of it, sat for few moments with his face cupped in his hands and went to the bathroom. Resting his hands on the wash basin he threw half of his weight on them. He was still breathing hard when he turned the tap of the washbasin on. He cupped his hands and threw cold water on his face. He filled his palms once, then twice then thrice and splashed again and again. He raised his eyes and looked up at his own blurry reflection in the mirror. He wiped the glass with his hand and then looked again, the face of the dead still floating before him.
Four hours later- United Nations headquarters
The general assembly hall was silent. It was full of people, world leaders, presidents, defense ministers, army officers but not a single voice was raised other than the speaker’s. It had been half an hour since the speaker had started his speech but nobody cared about the time. Nobody stopped him. No one argued. They all just listened, trying to devour every single one of speaker’s words. “Watching people die, killing people that was nothing new for me. I have seen many people die in front of my own eyes… friends, terrorists, and traitors. Every single time I looked them in the eyes and said my farewell, but that day I didn’t have the strength to look at him. I went outside the house, dropped my gun and fell down on my knees. I wanted to cry, shout, swear but words and tears seemed to have lost their way. That night, an emptiness, a hollowness filled me from inside. I tried to think of something else but the face of the boy didn’t go away from my mind. I kept seeing it, a body dropped on a floor with blood flowing out of it. And even today, whenever I close my eyes I still do. Every night that face haunts me. The person I killed wasn’t a terrorist. He wasn’t a man, but just a boy. A boy of around fifteen. It wasn’t his age to die, it wasn’t his age to hold a gun in his hand. Bloody hell! It was his time to play, to learn. It was his time to fall in love, get a girlfriend, to dream. It was his time to get all the love and sweet memories he could gather up….It definitely was not his time to get a bullet in his chest.” He stopped, looked around. His dark staring eyes broke the walls of the ego of every last person in the hall and freed the humans barred inside. “It’s been six years since that night. I left the service after that and started doing social work. Did everything I could to help me forget what had happened. I tried hard so that no other soldier’s hands will get stained by a children’s blood. And in all these six years, every night when I close my eyes I see him. A boy lying in the puddle of blood killed by my own hands.” He looked around, took a few moments to recover and took a deep breath, “I don’t deny the fact that we need armies. We need guns and we need to kill to keep the peace intact, but we keep on giving these things more importance than those which are far more vital. In all the years of service, after everything we tried, we didn’t establish peace. We didn’t prevent the terrorists or terrorism. The only thing we did was kill a bunch of people. Instead of trying to get to the root of the disease we tried to cut the branches, which given time grew again and this time… in a larger amount. We created more terrorists than we put an end to. Today, the only thing I ask all of you is to change your views. Instead of sending people with guns, send people with food. Send people who can provide them with education, people who can teach them how to love instead of hate…. I have been trying to fight for the peace for more than six years and now, I need help. I can’t fight this battle alone, I need the help of all you people to keep the peace this world needs. I beg of you to put an end on the deadly fight amongst us, the deadly competition which leads to hatred between countries, between people…… I ask you to help me in this war for the peace.” He paused for a moment, stood upright with his chest out, shoulders back, stomach in and then chanted, “For your country, for the world, for your brothers, for your sisters, for the innocents, for the weak, for humanity…. for the peace.”
He took three deep breaths. Raised his assault rifle again, rested its butt on his shoulder and checked that it was loaded. He raised his palm and signaled. Within a flash, all the six of his team members came out of hiding. Snowflakes lying on the ground lost their perfect shape as his team stepped on them. With controlled pace and each step carefully taken, the silence of the night remained untouched.
He had been in the field many times. In both of his tours to Afghanistan, he had lived many moments like this, had survived every mission and had outlived every single one of his enemies. But today something felt wrong, something was just not right. He heard his own voice calling him, telling him to turn back. And for some reasons he wanted to. He wanted to abort this mission and head back to the base, but he didn’t. His hand groped for the trigger even when it was just there, his other hand tightened around the upper receiver of his M16. Focus, focus for the country, for the world, for your brothers, for your sisters, for the innocents, for the weak, for humanity, for the peace.
The only sound that reached his ears was of his own heart pounding, pounding so hard as if it was trying to come out of his chest. Turn back, don’t go inside, a voice inside him said. Fear crawled inside of him. He felt sweat trickle down his neck, his hands shook. He tried to stop and turn back, but his legs didn’t answer to him, they kept moving. He was sweaty, his suit stuck to his skin as if it was a part of his own. No… I don’t want to…. Stop, stop. Words didn’t come out of his mouth. He looked around and the only thing he saw was the door of the house. Everything else around him was a shadow. He saw dark shadows creeping towards him, trying to enter his mind and torment his soul. He gasped for breath as a shadow crept forward…. Stay away, stay back, STAY BACK!! Leave me alone.
“Sir?” the voice brought him back to his senses, it was of one of his men. They were standing right in front of the door of the house. The soldier standing before the door looked at him, waiting for the signal. Still not sure of what was happening, he nodded in approval. The soldier counted from three. Three… two… one. The old wooden door with cracks blew wide open with the soldier’s kick. Raising his rifle, he entered inside. His hands were steady, his eyes searching for the movements and finger ready to pull the trigger. Only the ghostly silence welcomed him inside, broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, and the metallic sound of a gun falling on the ground. The footsteps grew louder and he saw a man coming out with an AK47 in his hand. His hands, without waiting for his conscious command, pulled the trigger. Bullets burst through the muzzle and pierced the man’s chest. He had been pleased by this shot in the past, but not this time. Now, it just haunted him. He stopped, his ears searching for a sound. He still remembered what his trainer had taught him in the first week of his training, ‘Out there it is not only the eyes which you need to see from but also your ears. A sound you missed can be the last sound you had a chance to hear.’ A few moments passed and he trembled. He knew what was going to happen. He remembered. No, please no. He pleaded as he tried to turn back. He tried to get out of the house but his body didn’t listen to him. He stood there with his rifle raised and waited.
The time seemed frozen, every moment like an eternity. And then, he saw it. A rifle’s muzzle coming out of the half turned door of another room. He tried to spin away but couldn’t, shadows bound his legs and hands in position. He wanted to cry and run but nothing happened. As soon as half the body part of the rifle bearer came in sight, his instincts told him to pull the trigger. He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to do this again but he saw his own fingers curl around the trigger and pull it. NO! He wanted to shout but the words stayed frozen in his throat. There was a loud sound of bullets being fired and then a thud of a body falling on the ground. The constant ringing sound in his ears disoriented him. Finally, when it ended, he found himself walking toward the body. He stepped forward, passed the first body and took steps toward the other. As he advanced, his shoes, dabbed in the blood of the first man, left a trail of red footsteps on the floor.
His heart was pounding faster than ever, and his hands were shaking when his eyes turned towards the legs of the dead man. Then they turned and he saw the white coat stained with blood and at the last, a punctured chest with four to five bullets. He was scared, scared to look at it again. He tried to look away but his eyes did not. They rested upon the face. Gasping for air, he screamed, “NO!!!”
He woke up with his own scream ringing in his ears. He was covered in sweat, from brow to the soles of this feet. He looked around and realizing he was in his own bed, sighed. Throwing away the blanket, he rolled out of it, sat for few moments with his face cupped in his hands and went to the bathroom. Resting his hands on the wash basin he threw half of his weight on them. He was still breathing hard when he turned the tap of the washbasin on. He cupped his hands and threw cold water on his face. He filled his palms once, then twice then thrice and splashed again and again. He raised his eyes and looked up at his own blurry reflection in the mirror. He wiped the glass with his hand and then looked again, the face of the dead still floating before him.
Four hours later- United Nations headquarters
The general assembly hall was silent. It was full of people, world leaders, presidents, defense ministers, army officers but not a single voice was raised other than the speaker’s. It had been half an hour since the speaker had started his speech but nobody cared about the time. Nobody stopped him. No one argued. They all just listened, trying to devour every single one of speaker’s words. “Watching people die, killing people that was nothing new for me. I have seen many people die in front of my own eyes… friends, terrorists, and traitors. Every single time I looked them in the eyes and said my farewell, but that day I didn’t have the strength to look at him. I went outside the house, dropped my gun and fell down on my knees. I wanted to cry, shout, swear but words and tears seemed to have lost their way. That night, an emptiness, a hollowness filled me from inside. I tried to think of something else but the face of the boy didn’t go away from my mind. I kept seeing it, a body dropped on a floor with blood flowing out of it. And even today, whenever I close my eyes I still do. Every night that face haunts me. The person I killed wasn’t a terrorist. He wasn’t a man, but just a boy. A boy of around fifteen. It wasn’t his age to die, it wasn’t his age to hold a gun in his hand. Bloody hell! It was his time to play, to learn. It was his time to fall in love, get a girlfriend, to dream. It was his time to get all the love and sweet memories he could gather up….It definitely was not his time to get a bullet in his chest.” He stopped, looked around. His dark staring eyes broke the walls of the ego of every last person in the hall and freed the humans barred inside. “It’s been six years since that night. I left the service after that and started doing social work. Did everything I could to help me forget what had happened. I tried hard so that no other soldier’s hands will get stained by a children’s blood. And in all these six years, every night when I close my eyes I see him. A boy lying in the puddle of blood killed by my own hands.” He looked around, took a few moments to recover and took a deep breath, “I don’t deny the fact that we need armies. We need guns and we need to kill to keep the peace intact, but we keep on giving these things more importance than those which are far more vital. In all the years of service, after everything we tried, we didn’t establish peace. We didn’t prevent the terrorists or terrorism. The only thing we did was kill a bunch of people. Instead of trying to get to the root of the disease we tried to cut the branches, which given time grew again and this time… in a larger amount. We created more terrorists than we put an end to. Today, the only thing I ask all of you is to change your views. Instead of sending people with guns, send people with food. Send people who can provide them with education, people who can teach them how to love instead of hate…. I have been trying to fight for the peace for more than six years and now, I need help. I can’t fight this battle alone, I need the help of all you people to keep the peace this world needs. I beg of you to put an end on the deadly fight amongst us, the deadly competition which leads to hatred between countries, between people…… I ask you to help me in this war for the peace.” He paused for a moment, stood upright with his chest out, shoulders back, stomach in and then chanted, “For your country, for the world, for your brothers, for your sisters, for the innocents, for the weak, for humanity…. for the peace.”
Jayesh bhaware (Masked Lord)
Please tell me your views about my story in the comment section below. And do share if you liked my blog...
���� too lazy to read it again ...but keep up the good work!
ReplyDeleteThanks Anmol.
DeleteNice Story... Nice thought... Keep it up bro...
ReplyDeleteRaedy to see the change and to be the part of change...Peace and humanity
Whoever this is, thank you.
DeleteVery good Jayesh! You have a far rich English vocabulary!
ReplyDeleteThe first part is the best, how you create the ambientation on that mission´s house.
Second part, when coming from the flashback is not as good as the first but, hey! is just my opinion! I like action moments after all.
Thanks, first part is my favourite too. And I love action moments same as you, but had to write college article about peace so, had to write that speech.
DeleteThis story is so gripping
ReplyDeleteThanks. I will soon be writing another one, stay tuned.
Delete