The Stars

Only in the darkest nights does one see how bright the stars are. Those very stars illuminate the otherwise dark, depressing void into something of beauty. A mind untainted by the workings of the world would say that nothing could beat that beauty, that dazzling, that brightness of the stars that light up the night sky. A voice whispered, telling her that those stars are what she might need one day and so she etched every detail, every twinkle into her mind.

That little girl fought to believe, wanted to believe but day-by-day, she feels the grip that was dear to her, to everything that was the core of her being, slip away. The cruelty of the wars taking their toll on her emotions, altering who she is to what she has to be. She saw it with her eyes, heard it with her ears and felt it with her very being. Painful as it was, she kept the feelings to herself, displaying feelings that were not felt, being strong for those she knew needed to see some form of hope. Invincible, that’s what she aspired to be. Not in the matter of death, but in matters of the heart.

Tired as she was, she had to let the belief she pass down to other children. For in times like these, that belief might be the only thing that might save a dying soul. Belief, she has come to learn, is a powerful thing and sometimes, is the reason a person chooses to fight on. Like precious metals and stones, believing people are rare. She admired them, for all the positivity they brought, for all the hope they presented.

As cars pass her by, as people chatter about, she walks in her own time and space and begins to wonder “why?” – a single worded question that haunts her mind – and a question which an answer she must find. Old memories she lets flood her; maybe therein lay the answer. All the beatings, the hurt, the abandonment and the lost – it was overwhelming for they were suppressed memories. Ones that she never let leaked through to her conscious mind. Like a dam holding water, everything poured out, seemingly glad of to be rid of the barrier that had kept them from flowing the way nature would have seen fit.

Looking up to the bright sky, she now no longer sees the stars and with that, she no longer feels herself. Was it possible to achieve peace as the stars have when they light up the sky? How to feel, but not feel? In the silence of her space, question after question rose, questions far beyond the grasps of many people her age – of life and death, of love and hate, of too much and too little.

Live, she did, for she was still breathing and her heart beating. But what is living? A question she often found herself asking. She knew, however, that the question was the hardest of hard questions for no one seemed to know the answer or if they did, they simply smiled and said nothing. In time, perhaps, she would know everything.

Maybe, she thought, maybe the answer lies within the little things. Those unique instances that makes a difference in each and every person’s life – the little things. How anything of significance can be called little, she did not know. But many have uttered those very words and when many say the same thing, logically, it should have some level of truthfulness. But, then again, what are the little things?

She noticed that her feet have led her to the park that she once frequented.

“Ah, it has been awhile.”

Following the path that surrounded the park, memories of a child and two adults came into view. How she misses those adults and that child. The days of carefreeness, of happiness, of no worries, of a constant and of someone who laughs and smiles at her without reason. So many years and here she was, back to the core of her childhood, to the end and a new beginning. Maybe this is where her solace lies.

An elderly couple sits on the bench, staring at the geese that were floating along the glassy surface of the lake, creating soft ripples as they did. “I love you now as did the parents’ of those geese loved each other and I will love you till the end, as will those geese each other.” The man had said to his wife.

Everyone dreams of the perfect other person, just like the old man and his wife – perfect halves of each other. Admiration, she felt, for the old couple. After so long, even as time diminishes their beauty, even as wrinkles appeared on their skin, they held hands and smiled just as they would when they were younger. Life is like a circle; the end begins at the beginning. A child will end up as a child – not physically, but mentally.

Him. She hadn’t thought of him. He, who is gentle but stern. He, who is smart and ridiculous. He, who cared more than everyone else. He, who saw past her defences. Today, she believed in him as she did when they first met. Another emotion began to replace the hurt – hopeful emptiness.

Fate was definitely at play that day, for their meeting was one that was unexpected and one that was not at all favourable. He had managed to capture her in minutes, made her fall for him in months and left her wanting to marry him soon after. Childlike dreams, she berated herself. Dreams as such had cost her and she knew better than to think that way again, but it couldn’t be helped. For once, in a long time, she was happy.

Sometimes, that fear overpowers her, changing her demeanour into a cold, suspicious one. Every time, he fights through, telling her how that will not be the case, how he’ll be the one to stay. In his arms, she felt secure. In his eyes, she sees fierceness. In his heart, she hears passion, and in its beat, she hears a song.

Years, she has lost her song. Years, she had lost her arms of protection. Years, she lost her wall. She longed for the day, dreamed of it, often missing him. In his letters, he told her tales of fallen men and how much he, too, missed her. But never once did he mention about his self, safe be that no worries were needed to be. Lies, she knew they were, for in war, no one was safe.

The memory of how he held her in his arms and lifted her off her feet. She squealed, he laughed. She begged him to stop spinning and so, he did. Lingering his arms around her waist, he stared into her eyes and her into his, they shared a passionate kiss – a wordless goodbye, a wordless prayer and hope.

When he pulled away, she knew that that might be last time she saw him and quickly, she tattooed his image into her mind and more importantly, her soul. An announcement was made and he picked up his luggage and walked away, climbing the large vessel that will carry him to the other side of the world.

“To fight for his country, to fight for you”, he had said.

She needed him to remember the image of her smiling and she forced a smile. Usually, she was not one to cry, but that day, she held back the tears that were threatening to break the barriers that were her eyes. He blew a kiss of promise and she blew a kiss of prayer.

An alarm sounded in her head.

He would be here soon, that thought effectively breaking her trance.

She turns on her heels and was met by smiling strangers, some with tears on their cheeks. The winds then brought to her the smell of he who she longed but she could not see the familiar face in the crowd.

Frustrated, she felt a slight tugging at the hem of the skirt – a boy, holding out a simple gold band.

“Hello.” She heard a voice say and strong arms encircled her waist. Tears cascaded down her cheeks and she felt the stars return to her dark nights.

The evening sun bearing witness, he whispered in her ears, “Will you marry me?” and the crowd cheered.

-The End-

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