A Lost Battle

(Dedicated to freedom fighters of Kashmir. May Allah bless them achieve their cause. Ameen)

Collaboration work of Paras Ali and very talented dear writer Asma Mughal

"Rumors ran amok that this brawny soldier has been behind shaking off metals and shrouding millions of villagers in white coffins now what makes you stand dumb ? I can see your hands are quivering. The girl in a mocking pitch asked looking straight into the eyes of the soldier. A strange silence descended all over quietening the barrel of HK MP5 rifle held by the soldier. All he could see the reflection of his bleak and bony , black marble resembling eyes in her grayish emerald iris canopied by beady eye sockets. No wind murmured a whistle only it shut the jaws of surrounding cacophony. No sooner the twilight rays wearing anklets swirled and curled around her pupil's edges he saw an immense goddess in her writing with emerald flecks a book of myths. Everything was on its right place except the eyes that have taken the place of the tongue. The girl eyes were translating those dauntless notes which he has never heard in these twenty eight years of his existence .He made one more step towards her and she yelled. "Shoot me you coward but dare not touch an inch of hair of mine ". Are you not scared of death ? Lost in bewildering empathy the soldier questioned.

'Death! What the hell death is!, the monster that ends up everything, your plaything, savoiur of your pride...huh...you a soldier...kill as many as you want and get yourself drowned in the pool of contentment, if your conscience allows it. I ain't fear death.', they were eye to eye so close having a strange connection. He had fixed the muzzle of the gun on her throat and clutched hold of her body in a way that the hurt penetrated deep in her bones. But neither did she scream nor begged for mercy. It was as if she had already handed over her body to him. The soldier's mind was boiling with questions like, who wishes to die at such a younger age? Why wasn't her body resisting? What messages were being conveyed by those rather small and unattractive eyes? There was a pause on both sides, then she looked to the right and he to the left, he was crushing his teeth while she was breathing faster. both were hearing their silent speech. Once again they looked at each other and again he saw his reflection in her eyes. The girl had done him no harm but he was a soldier in uniform on the duty to kill, torture even rape anyone on enemy side and she was his legitimate prey. The ground was there to water all the beastly desires buried deep in any man but he was a man with the attitude of a lion. He wanted his prey to be afraid of him, he despised tearing the already a dead body like a vulture does. And there she was standing, eye to eye, showing the courage of a soldier_ like him. He could identify his own self through her eyes. A battle between whether to go ahead or step back went on for a minute and then he turned his face towards the deserted village when suddenly, a strong blow of some hard object was felt on his head, then a second blow and the third and the next moment he was lying on the ground shrieking with pain, not dead but in-empowered.

 Lying plagued , punctured in spirit and bitterly wounded the soldier hissed:
"so you have also tasted human blood the savage blind girl. You have thinned the boundary between you and me". 

The girl opened her ajared lips for the first time to reply
'No territory has ever existed between us, and you! for you are fighting the war with a skilled brain while we are battling with an armored heart. '