The War - Chapter 2

The war lasted for 5 years. Five agonising and painful years. Even though I was out from the capital city, I could feel the pain and suffering that the people experienced just by listening to the radio or reading the newspaper. The headline of one newspaper once read

"589 killed by a bomb in the capital city"

Five hundred and eighty nine people. Died. Instantly by one bomb. Sometimes I wonder where are the sanity of these bombers? Or even, where are their hearts? Couldn't they just think of the consequence and put their feet into the victims' shoes?

For five years, we were placed in a village faraway from the capital city. It was a small quiet village, filled with farmsteads and gardens. The boys worked in the fields to grow plants and rear the animals while the girls helped in the house chores. Sometimes the girls would work in the field as well, doing light work like watering.

We were all excited to hear the announcement in the radio. "We are free at last". And we knew deeply in our hearts that the war had ended. We cheered and hugged each other. Sang and danced along. We even held a celebration feast. The crops we grew, which was meant for the soldiers, were used in this feast. Turkeys, Chicken and Pig were roasted. Salads and side dishes were made.

Our hearts leaped in joy even further when we heard the news that we were all going back to our village again. Home at last I thought. But happiness was not all of us accepted. We also received the news that part of our village was destroyed by bombs. Some of us even received letters during the war, saying that their parents or relatives were killed by a bomb.

I was lucky enough not to be one of them. I could still vividly remember my mother standing and waving her white handkerchief as our bus left five years ago. Now, I could not imagine the lives of those affected by the bomb. Perhaps they would not be welcomed by anyone once they reached the village.

Perhaps, they would just be welcomed by their memories.

The War - Chapter 1

Everyone was crying. The bus was filled with chaos and uncertainty. I sat quietly beside two 5 years old boys who were crying very loudly. The bus was filled with children, aged between 1 to 12 years old. There were even infants inside the bus, carried by some girls.

Everyone was screaming and shouting. Outside the bus, the mothers of these children cried and sobbed, waving their woven handkerchiefs. Their cheeks were wet, their face desolate. My mother was standing between the other mothers - wearing a red shirt with a black skirt. Unlike the other mothers, she was not crying. She just simply waved her handkerchief. A white one.

Then the bus jolted as the engine started. It moved slowly towards the road while the mothers followed the bus. The screaming in the bus grew louder. Then a woman appeared. She was my neighbor, Mrs Johnson.

"Children please sit still, we don't want you to get injured"

Then two other women appeared from the back, asking the children to sit still. One of them was one of my teachers in school, Mrs Edward. But I didn't recognise the other one.

Disobeying them, I jumped out of my seat and moved towards the back of the bus. I looked over the window and saw my mum standing on the exact spot where she was standing just now. She did not chase the bus. She simply stood still on the same spot, still waving the handkerchief.

That was when I parted with my mother.

The night

Under the dark sky, I dream.
I dream of dreams that I hope could come true.
I am waiting and waiting for the day,
Where my dreams turn into a reality.

Under the starry sky, I seek.
I seek a shooting star that never falls.
Even though my attempts may be in vain.
I still wait to seek a star, to heal my pain.

Under the moonlit sky, I lay.
I lay on the grassy field, enjoying the breeze.
I wish one day I could be free.
As free as the evening breeze, blowing against me.

Under the evening sky I wonder.
I wonder who am I in this little world?
I may be insignificant in many ways.
But I still have dreams and hopes,
That I wish could come true.

Now, will it?

Life

When I look at the sky, I envy the birds.
Flying freely up high, above the clouds.
Having no fear, having no worries.
Wandering around the world, flying above the seven seas.

When I look into the ocean, I envy the fishes.
Swimming happily, inside an underwater paradise.
Discovering new places, overcoming challenges.
Living a life, where everything always seems nice.

When I look at the grassy field, I envy the horses.
Running freely and bravely, venturing new landscapes.
Feeling the warmth of the sun, the freedom of the wind.
Searching for places they have never been.

When the wind blows on me, I envy the wind.
Flowing aimlessly into places they have never been.
Letting destiny to lead them into new places.
Without feeling any fear, without shedding any tear.

When I look into myself, I simply kept quiet.
Realising how unfair this world is.
But no, I’m not angry nor am I sad.
It’s the way the world behaves, it’s the way the world acts.

I just realise, how unfair and how imperfect the world is.
But who am I to go against it?
I am just a little insignificant creature
That lives in the place, we are living in.

Life's Do's

Do love yourself, and do love others.
For love is the key to your life’s happiness.
Treat them like sisters and brothers.
And you shall enjoy life with gratefulness

Do live your life to the fullest.
For you only live once, and once is forever.
Love your life to your dearest.
And leave it without having regrets, once it’s over.

Do dream of a million dreams.
For dream is the key to reality.
Even though your dreams may be filled with impossibility
There’s no stopping your ambition to set free.

Do listen to what your hearts says.
For your heart is the voice of your soul.
Follow all your heart’s pathways.
And your life will seem like a bliss.

Do live your life in your own perspective.
For it is your one and only life, and not others’
You are the one that is carrying out your life’s objective
So why bother listening to others?

Do cherish the freedom you get.
For freedom is priceless and precious.
Treasure the memories you shall never forget.
For memories will remain as memories

Do enjoy your life more than anything else.
For your life is the most expensive thing in the world.
Cherish every moment you have.
And live your life to the fullest.

Death Story

The morning was unusually normal. First, it was the rain. Second, it was the freezing temperature. Never in his life he had ever felt so cold before in his little town. Nevertheless, he had to do his job, his daily job. A job that no one loves or even dares to do. It was something unusual and weird, that this job is almost gone, forever.

In the little town of Rondetta, Shoran had a job. It is known as a story teller. Not just an ordinary story teller, but someone who tells story to dead people. Or to put it in a clearer term. To tell stories to dead bodies. It had been a ritual in his town that dead people were told stories, usually a story that they requested to the story teller before he or she died.

And this job was almost gone, because the job was known to be something terrifying. But Shoran took this job. Because his parents were both a story teller.

That morning, Shoran was heading for a story telling session in his friend's funeral. So he grabbed his story book and coat, then head off to his friend's home where the funeral was held.

His friend was Jorean. In the country, the name means a constellation, which leads lost travelers in the desert. She died of an unknown disease, mysteriously while he was sleeping.

Upon reaching his house, Shoran sent his condolences to Jorean's parents, who were sobbing quite heavily. Then, they lead him to Jorean's room, in which her body was laid on her bed.

"Jorean hoped you could tell her a story about lost travelers" said Jorean's mother.

So, Shoran started the story. The room was filled with the smell of flowers, and it was rather pungent. He opened his story book and started reading a story.

The story was about a group of travelers who were lost in a desert. When they were about to give up, they saw the Jorean constellation and were then saved. It was a bedtime story, usually told by parents to their children.

After reading the story, Shoran closed the book and gave Jorean a kiss on the forehead.

"I will miss you Jorean"

And that's how Shoran lost his only star, who could lead him out of misery of his life.

Me

I am a leaf,
floating in the air.
I float aimlessly,
to a land of nowhere.

I am a dandelion,
in a flight of fantasy.
I am seeking freedom and peace,
till eternity.

I am a feather,
carred by the wind.
I brave the weather,
seeking for a place I want to be in.

I am a bird,
soaring in the sky.
I look at the world with my own eyes.
Tasting freedom within my breath.

But now I am just an ordinary man.
Who wants to savour the taste of freedom.
And I always wonder, when would I be free,
of the chains that are holding me.

Weeeee