Suruma Writes On...

Doesn't the scarlet hue painted across your countenance , torture your five year old mind? Doesn't your broken limbs and scarred temple weigh down upon your shoulders? Doesn't your body twitch in pain and vexation? Doesn't the agony make you cry out loud? Oh! I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I forgot that your small,credulous eyes , have ran out of water to shed, I forgot that your lips;dark crimson; haven't tasted the salt in your tears, I forgot that you were born to the sound of the mortars that spit and the drones that dance. I forgot that you've never listened to your mother's lullabies or to the clatter of the colourful toys, I forgot that you've never tuned in to bedtime stories of fairies and superheroes who fill your pot of wonder to the brim, I forgot that you've never had frivolous squabbles with your brother whose inanimate cadaver you haven't yet seen, I forgot that your childhood was drowned  in the scarlet ocean,

Story: The sky above was clear and the winds blew much less. The army camps on my side were anxious about the war that was going to take place. It was just daybreak. The soldiers did go numb for the cold had been agonizing. But their spirits were soaring up high like colorful kites that flew with the gale.   Even the guns, tanks and missiles seemed to be invigorated with spirit of the combat. Every bit of Earth and every flake of snow looked as if they too wanted to join the fight. The chiefs were busy pumping up inspiration into their subordinates whose faces looked firm and resolute in spite of the piercing conditions. “We will not allow them to occupy our motherland.” The general’s voice reverberated across the snow clad mountains. “We will not give them even an inch of our land. Be ready, my men, to sacrifice your life for our country. There is no greater cause to die than to die for one’s motherland. Be alert, be firm and be courageous. Victory will come