Yesterday, I started reading the
wonderful book by Murakami – “What I talk about when I talk about running”. I
had picked the book in haste from the neighboring bookstore, while my son was
busy selecting posters of footballers. Buying books is my weakness. Many of
them are resting on the wooden shelves, waiting to be read. Their time will
come, soon.
Besides a penchant for buying, I love
to walk. I can go for walks at any hour of the day. Last evening I went at 9pm.
Just felt like it. The whiff of fresh air, along the Långholmen beach, a few
meters from my home, soothes my soul. If the weather is suitable, it works
wonders on my mind.
The clean green grass, the glistening sand below my feet,
and the waters quietly splashing on the shores, as if teasing the grains to
swim away into the vast oceans – all this leaves me mesmerized. The world is
indeed a beautiful place. The nature’s reserves cannot be contained by the man-made
political boundaries. Besides, there is no measure for nature’s beauty. The
majestic Himalayas, aurora borealis in Lapland, the fjords of Norway, the Great
Barrier Reef in Australia, the penguins in Antarctica, the sand dunes in
Africa, the grasslands of South America – I am sure you are with me when I say
the list is endless?
God must have painstakingly created the earth – carved the
plateaus, molded the mountains, and filled in the oceans with crystal clear
waters. And then left it on us to cherish, nourish and enjoy, to walk, to run. But
then the super intelligent mankind created some boundaries. Countries were
born. Countries are divided, more countries are born. Along with these, as we
have discussed in the series of A to Z posts, religions propagated, and castes
perforated humankind.
While walking along the water last
evening, my thoughts wandered across to the countries, where nights are not as
peaceful, days are not as happy. Where human beings have no freedom, they lead
a life of misery. The countries which are war-zones, declared as battlefields,
for the political leaders of the world, for the terrorists who rape, behead and
murder in the name of religion. Where they crawl to hide their bodies from the human
hawk’s eyes.
One day, I will visit these people,
the beautiful countries, lost in war, where they once celebrated a festival called life. One
day, I will walk on their shores, feel the grains of sand, under my feet, the
water kissing my feet, the vast expanse of the ocean which once witnessed a
bomb blast, which killed the beach walkers, never to return home.
This post is written as the twenty third in the series of AtoZ challenge and a part of #1000speak
My theme is "Compassion" and today's thought is based on
"Walking in the war-zone"
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