The Night Warrior

In the beginning was nothing and…. But how can that be possible, there has to be something. In the vastness of darkness was something or rather someone. He had no form or rather no one had seen him to say that he had some form.

He was the warrior of dark. He looked dark; he was formless. His duty was walking through the infinite darkness and so was his form-infinite; dark or light no one knows, no one has seen. One day he got bored with the silence and so he took out a bow from his quiver and shot it in the darkness.

The bow was harmless and just like a fire cracker sprinkled the space with dots of light. He was happy to see it. Due to no gravity and freezing temperatures the sparks refused to vanish and so they stayed. They stayed like hanging lights. Some sparks were like mini bulbs and the others were clubbed together, they defined no shape. So, the warrior took out a flute from his quiver and like a glassblower blew air into these cluttered sparks. They were now inflated. Now a shape could be defined, they were round and somewhat circular in shape.

He moved covering the space from white ball to orange ball, from orange ball to yellow and finally he stopped at a blue ball. It looked very attractive; so he gazed at it. He took out his flute and started playing the sound of life into it. Very soon the blues got separated into two parts- sky and ocean. The waves danced at the notes played by the warrior. The warrior saw them happy and shot a bow right into this blue ball. There was gravity and the sparks did not stay and fell down. They were scattered all over the ocean. They were shinny, sandy, muddy and formed parts of land. He was happy and wanted to assign a protector to all this. He took out a conch from the bed of the ocean. He blew into the conch and since everything was so happy and the waves were dancing and there was breeze…the sound got transformed into green trees. They were planted everywhere. They stood deep rooted and with their branches joined together showed respect to the warrior.

There was one tree that looked very attractive. It stood firm, had good thick branches; however, unlike the others had no leaves. The warrior could see him in it. He called at it to get a closer look. But the poor tree could not see and fell down with a big thud. Right where it fell was a large ball of mud. The warrior placed it right at its center. He plucked three leaves from other plants and placed these three leaves on this ball. Two were placed horizontally in one line and the third one in between these, a little below. Now the warrior asked it to get up and walk. He was walking and fell into the ocean. There was complete silence. The warrior thought he will not see it, but then something came out. It was not the tree and sure looked different and new to him (can say looked handsome). It was thankful to the warrior because it was his creation. The warrior name it-HE and made him a protector of this land. He was pleased and said this is a land of magic and blessed him and all that was there and went away.

The warrior still moves from one dark space to another. He keeps moving, creating and shooting in the open space with his bow. It is very difficult to say what he would be creating…NOW.

Come, stand with me

At the door I stand with a cup of tea and watch out off the window. This is my favourite pastime. This is my favourite moment of the day. I feel like a Juliet except for my Romeo is at home and I know no one is standing down for me. I normally stand in the morning or in the evenings with a cup of tea or coffee in my hand.

This is what waits me, a park filled with green grass. I can see colours of pink, white, read and orange on the plants. There is a tree which has dark green leaves. This tree stands still at the right hand corner of my sight. The tree has blossomed deep bloody red flowers. The park is bordered with flowering plants. Some are small and some have grown tall. It’s like the gardener has played fill in the blanks in the park, wherever there are no plants, there is grass. The grass is properly trimmed. The park is well maintained by the society gardener.


A view from where I stand.

Everyday at 9o’clock I see him attending the park. He would mow the grass, sometimes he would dig the soil, the other days he would water the plants, some days he would plant the seeds.

During winter days I see kids playing in the park. They would play with a softball or badminton. Some small toddlers with their grandparents or governesses would run, play, fall, tumble on the ground- in short they will do all sorts of things that will dirty their clothes. They only come out during the winter days. The sun would be too harsh on them during the summer days so they will not come out in the evenings as well. I enjoy all this as I stand by the window.

The seasons change and the view changes along with it. During the harsh summers the gardener will look after the park and will leave by 1o’clock. I guess so, because I don’t see him after that. During these summer days the plants are vibrant green in colour, there isn’t much variety to see. The autumn will not add to the beauty of the park as the plants will shed away its leaves and the gardener will rake them away. With the spring in action the gardener will try to add colour by planting different varieties of flowering plants. This colourful picture stays till winter.

I know that I might not see the children play in the park but I know I would see the beautiful flowers and green grass any time of the day or anytime of the year. I’m able to enjoy this because of the gardener. Had it not been for him, I would have seen grass growing as tall as the softballs or even bigger than that. No children would ever play as they would see their balls disappearing in the grass. The toddlers would not play and chuckle around, as the parents would fear something dangerous might come out of the soil.

Flowers in full bloom

Flowers in full bloom