Its never ever going to be too long.....

I decided to set out fighting the numbness in life that had enveloped in the extremity of a few hardships and tests of consistency I faced during the last few months. The battling lines and ground were extremely rugged. But now the solemn pride of having fought through and the assuagement of anguish have sprouted within me.

During tough times I am constantly reminded and inspirted by the story of Sir William Wallace, a knight and Scottish patriot who led resistance against the English occupation of Scotland during the Wars of Scottish Independence. Wallace is known to have won the Battle of Stirling Bridge and the battle of Falkirk against the English army. The Scottish men were less armed and less numbered, but the fierce determination and the passion to win freedom for their nation. Wallace fell many times, but he learned to stand on firm ground rather roll and drag in the pits of downfall. He taught his men determination and the pride of winning freedom for their tomorrow, but the price he paid is beyond description. After Wallace's capture and declaration of being guilty he was stripped naked and dtragged through the city at the heels of a hoursee. He was hanged, drawn and quartered- strangled by hanging but released whiele still alive, emasculated, eviscerated and his bowels burnt before him, beheaded, then cut into four parts. His body was rent apart and made public display. All this he bore and endured with the pride that he was winning the F-R-E-E-D-O-M for their tomorrow.

There are times in our life when we pay a costly price enduring struggles. But there's always pride and hope of getting through tough times. Its never ever going to be too long.

It's not going to be too long

Its been a couple of months since I have arrived at the UK. Adaptation has been a word that has been the buzz word. After a severe cultural and climate shock, I have recovered and gained momentum in my studies. As somebody penned it down, 'where there's a will there's a way'. After I reached I did notice a big change in the British Soil.

I usually walk to the University to attend lectures. Its almost a 20 minute walk away in the freezing cold, where I wouldn't even feel my ears and fingers. Every day I used to see an apple tree in the garden of a house. The lawn was not well kept and the house looked deserted. The trees around looked numb, changing their color and paleness of the bitter cold touching their lives too. All fruits were shed off and only the trunk and branches would have to sustain the hostile weather of the next 3 months. The leaves beneath lay crumbled and without life.



Everyday as I walked past this lawn and attend lectures, I used to think how meaningless was life. We are placed to face the hostility and become numb. Ultimately we are ripped of without leaves, and only our framework of the branch and trunk exists. It would have no comeliness nor beauty to endure the winter.

One day I stood gazing for a few minutes at those trees in the lawn. An old man came down the way in brisk pace. I never thought he would notice me or stop over to talk to me. He called out 'Young man, what are you looking at?'. I thought he must have been the owner and didn't want to entertain a road passer to gaze at his lawn. The man said, the trees have shed their leaves, some are changing to colors of paleness, but remember the winter is not going to be long.

How true was it and how foolish was I to think that being placed in hostility and numbness equated to the meaningless of life. The Winter is going to be short indeed. Its not going to be long. There's one bright day after enduring this battle of odds and struggles, that you reach the stars. The spring would come soon. Everyday as I walk past those trees and see the crumbled leaves, it is a reminder that its not going to be too long.

The spring would come, you would regain life and everything would be bright and colorful. The fallen petals and leaves would rise in summer. 'Its not going to be too long'.

When I remembered those days again

I remember those days of old when innocence enveloped my life. I am trying to repaint that canvas ith those pictures on my memories wall. The tides and cobwebs of professionalism can never wash of those unique shells that have rested on my memory shore and are buried in depth. Never has the mind during these days known the words and acts of prejudice, hatred and retaliation.

But now days and times have changed. Getting busy and busier, with a lot of cobwebs around. There seems to be hardly any time to spare for pals of those childhood days who walked together. Spoke to a few of them over telephone the last day and remembered the days we stayed together in a hostel. We ate from the same plate and drank from the same cup. Played the same game and had same interests. Spoke of mysterious wizards and ghosts of haunted houses.

The last word before our phone conversation ended rested upon the idea that we have all parted, we have all gone into different paths, we have all made our ways different, there were no possiblities of a reunion. Our eyes were wet and our minds were in agony. The days of childhood and adolosence when we remained in unity with friends. But now time bought us apart. The only consolation that we comforted each other was nothing but the solemn pride that all our pals were fighting the fights and struggling the basic strugles of life to succeed. We could all see the gates of opportunities wide open, welcoming us to succeed.

The World was indeed wide open and opportunities even wider. Amidst its wideness the globe is spherical and we would surely meet again!!! What more could we hope for???