Dare To Dream

With blood trickling down slowly, and with life delaying its end, he wondered if he had pressed the rewind button of his life. It was more of a snapshot of moments. The most important ones or so he thought. He was surprised that the glimpses he got were so varied and about people he never thought he valued so much. Well life is a funny teacher, he thought. But never gave up on teaching you a lesson, whenever it was, even if it is death bed.

There was no real order of the images he was going through in his mind. It was all one varied collage. There was his mother, his young mother feeding him, protecting him, his mother to whom he meant the world.

His wife, the quite, patient, tolerant wife whose most important goal in life seemed to be his wellbeing. Making sure he was well fed, well dressed, happy seemed to be her purpose in life. And she was happy doing it. All their happy moments came to him in a flash. He hated to be the one making her unhappy.

There they were, the purpose of his life, his little princesses playing around in their field. Everything he did seem to be for them. It was when he had kids of his own, he
understood his mother completely. How she felt about him. He realized that it is possible to feel unconditional love. Just pure, unadulterated love. It was an amazing feeling. He realized that his life seemed meaningful cause of them.

Total strangers he had helped through his life, whose faces seemed fuzzy, appeared in his last moments. Strangers he had touched and not realized it. From the poor hungry little kid who cleaned the plates in the dhaba with whom he had shared his roti at times, to even the dog in his street who he fed at times. He just saw people. He did not see the ambitions he nurtured or the money he was after. Just the people. The biggest wealth a person makes in his lifetime. And in an inexplicable way that eased the pain. Knowing he was loved by people and that he would be missed made the process of dying easier.

He wanted to have one last glimpse of his family, he was trying to fish the picture he had in his pockets ,when he did not find them there, he started searching the ground next to him desperately to get the picture. His hands found something. With efforts needed to lift a mountain he bought it closer to his eyes. His eyes did not deceive him, it was a beautiful family but just not his. He turned his head towards his left to find another man in a different uniform. The one he was ordered to target. His hands were doing the same desperate motion that he did a minute ago. He placed the picture in his hands. His sanguinary face seemed to break in to small smile. A life touched at its very end.

Ironical, considering he was supposed to have ended this life. It did not matter. Not now, not ever. The other person had a life too, has a mother whose world revolved around him, has a doting wife, has lovely kids. People whose worlds revolve around him. Every person has a story . Every battlefield has a story. The battlefield teaches a lesson too. A lesson of peace.

He turned away his eyes closing. He did not need the picture. He could see them clearly etched in his mind. He did not realize his eyes closing but felt his lips spread in to a smile