he remembers nothing (3/4)

The book contains a treasure of many pages. Every page weighs the emotions of the man who had written it. It has a strong notion of finding something invaluable yet intangible. Reader might find the author’s note as

     The happenings of yesterday have led me to a godforsaken prison of the Westland. Less than a few days to die, I find it more usual as if I have faced this situation quite a while ago. My dreams as it never holds to the memory in the past, seem to be clear as I approach the end. Henceforth, I’ve decided to write the impossible.

 As the story begins from the perceptive of a person facing the journey through the rough path of his life. Words explain the anger which made him choose the way to unleash it.The author never understands why he had to suffer the pain when he wrote the happenings of September, the 13th.

September 13th, 1941

                    War is an indefinite piece of art. Future might be wonderful because of the past is well haunted. Memories as ghostly as death which always glides through our plain sight. It is waiting for a moment to make me forget my entire life. Sometimes bullets are alike uninvited guests making victims deadly as if they are some jolly target for a sniper out there.  

               On this day, as we advance onto the enemy’s camp.,

“Base camp alpha. This is Op-86 speaking.”  a voice near me, mumbling into the radio.

“Go ahead.” radio crackled.

“We’ve got a  sight of civilians. About 50 men, Unarmed. I repeat..” he chose the words. “Unarmed.”

“Proceed..”

We looked at each other. The people are unarmed but they ought to be killed as a message to their leader who is nowhere near the battlefield.

“I repeat. They are unarmed..”

“ Get your damn rifle and shoot those assholes. That is an order.” The superior with a strong command of power.

“This isn’t right. That is not a good way to kill.” A brother at war said in a low voice.

“Captain, we are awaiting your orders.”

“Fire,” I said.

The tragedy completed in less than an hour with no casualties from our side. As I was walking through their camp, I saw a book covered with blood. As I turned the pages, I saw many pages spoiled with blood except one.

The one story titled “The guilty one”…

As a saint continues his meditation, his discipline who was given charge of guru’s household seems to wonder through the gardens. He is an arrogant man who is skillful enough to cover his sins. Sometimes he goes into the forest to hunt and took pleasure in entertaining the women. He impressed them with his indefinite skills.

                                One day, as he was talking to one of the royal ladies from the palace, a beautiful red striped deer went past them.

“Won’t that be the god’s greatest art ?” one of them said.  

“Unless if we can have it. ” he said.

“What does that mean ?”

“God would never slip his favorite art into us. Would he ?”

“You can catch it for us. Can’t you ?”

He went after the deer into the woods with the scent sniffed as huntsmen. He tried many times but he can’t get near it. He waited, tiptoed but can’t get near it. With an intense anger, He took his bow and shot the deer. It was struck but not dead. He realized that his guru was fond of that deer.  Acknowledging the incident, guru cursed him.

 “ YOU FOOL, You have caused pain to an innocent creature for an insignificant reason.I curse you that hereafter, You shall carry the guilt of every crime you have caused, to each life you will live. And you shall receive the same death as it did”

He pleaded his guru for many years. He changed his manner and served for entire life. At last,

“ I can’t take away the curse yet you can find redemption. If you can find the thing that separates life to that of death, your curse will be taken away..”   

 

I always wonder what made him go after the deer. The woman or The desire to acquire… What made him kill the deer… Anguish or humiliation.

I almost felt it too real to chose the options.

 Is it a real story…?

 

Contd…

Thank you for reading…

To read the next quarter, click he remembers nothing (4/4).

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