A Beautiful Mind

I peeped out of my window with utmost curiosity and caution. The aftermath of the war was evident not in the barren landscape outside but in the eyes of my fellow refugees. The blast had been too loud, I had lost my ability to hear.The light had been too bright, I had lost my eyesight. The pressure was too suppressing , I had lost my sense of perception. All these being something that had been deeply carved into my mind. Like all my fellow people, I had succumbed to the war and thought I had lost my mind. But no.

I had mentally prepared myself for the war long back, even before the first shells started pouring, even before the first mines went off,

even before the first warning siren started booming. "I am different and i don't surrender,I am a strong lad, aren't I?" I used to say. But i later discovered how feeble the human mind was. It is a huge dark landscape of hope, passion and thirst. But once it wavers, it drowns, filled with remorse. A candle that many have lighted but got themselves burnt from.

My wife was taken. My children were taken. But my mind was not. The war failed there. But it had changed. Changed much beyond comprehension.

Now here I was at an old worn out wooden mansion, cut off from the world, fearing a new attack, a new wave of change. There were all types of people with me, but they all had something in common: a family. Each person had escaped the dreadful clutches of war with their loved ones. Though under constant threat they were happy as they had their dears around, while I sat at the corner weeping for my loss, but with a solid and strong mind.

Coming back to my notification to you about the ever unworldly concept of mind. Why a dark landscape? Because darkness is all prevailing. Beyond the mere Earth and stars there is something huge; something humungous. But it all is plain dark serenity. Then why not the mind be dark.

Despite the huge toll the war had on us, we had our own good moments. At least some of us had. I grinned each day at the sight of the people around me enjoying every small thing with their families. At least the war had taught us to enjoy the small things.

But I shuddered as thoughts of my family came flashing back. A beautiful reverie for me now. Later came the bitter truth, skimming through the sea of thoughts into my mind and i questioned it. "Why me God". But i was happy, though a tad envious,to see how other people stayed happy with their families despite being stroked by the crude fingers of war.

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But everything changed a dew-less morning. I discovered on waking that all the people were lying dead, terror in their eyes their mouths wide open as if pleading to someone. How could all change over one night?I sat there at the usual corner confused and 'smirking' at the happy families.