Thursday, July 23, 2009

A heart with a point

His boots sink into grimy earth with each step he takes. The grass is a bitter olive green, trampled by his boots, black and relentless. He looks ahead to see a fort made of wood. Much like a beaver dam, it was built piece by piece, chunk by chunk, all by himself.

General Han is a one man army with a big fort. Has been a one man army with a big fort for many years now. Han never needed numbers by his side. His predicament doesn’t demand it, for you see, General Han is at war, with no one but himself.

It is extravagantly obscure that General Han builds a fort for protection when the adversary walks in and out as he pleases, just as he himself would. When he sleeps, so does the enemy. When he weeps, so does his enemy. So they said, keep your friends close, your enemies closer.

In his fort is a room, in his room a plastic throne. Everyday General Han would take place on it pondering of things foreign to him. He would wonder what it feels like to be a comet. He would secretly wish to be a shooting star. He always believed that when shooting stars fly by, the other stars actually stop to watch. He would also secretly wish to be the indigo in a rainbow.

General Han’s boots may be black and relentless but the man wears an oversize jacket. Cynics would translate it as inferiority to himself. They see that General Han always seems to be falling short of something. He seems to not fit in. He seems to lack. He was either too untimely, too timely, too unconvincing, or even too kind. But then again, maybe it’s just an oversized jacket, that’s all.

One day, a voice called out from outside the fort, “Han...” It sounded like a whisper, but a loud whisper. Han stood up on his plastic throne from inside his room to peek out the window. He sees no one. “I seek you”, said the voice, this time sounding more female but still gently soft. “Who are you and why?” replied Han.

There was silence.

This whisper doesn’t say much. Perhaps it did, but it was too soft to be audible.

“Are you there? I can’t hear you. Why don’t you send me a mail? So I can read it.” Han yelled out.

There was more silence. Han tip-toed. He then caught a glimpse of tree branches shaking, apparent to be from the quick blow of a breeze. What a sight. Tree branch after tree branch followed suit, from the furthest coming closer. A split second later, Han sees a ‘point’. It was an arrow.

This arrow flew into his room and hit the back wall. It had a note on it. It was in an envelop, made of hemp, in the shape of a heart. Not the shape of love, but a heart.

He grabbed the arrow careful not to damage its feathers. It was a nice arrow. He yanked it and yanked it he couldn’t. He exerted more force and eventually it detached from the wall. For a while, there was a tiny rumbling in the wall.

The heart in hand, he walked back to his plastic throne, sat down, and held the heart in both hands. Just as he was about to open the heart to understand its content, a loud tumbling sound thundered from behind. The back wall was crumbling down. Chunks after chunk fall apart, one block made its way to a nearby pot. General Han’s cooking pot.

Just like the roar of applause, an ovation, the chunks fell on and on, block after block sounding like claps. It was as though, the fort was cheering its own demise. The sides starts falling, followed by the front end of the fort while the back starts catching fire from his cooking pot.

General Han remains seated on his throne celebrated by a thunderous applause of wood, a heart in his hand, unopened still. He starts weeping. By this time, he was already surrounded by an eventual ring of fire. All it took was a pointy stick with beautiful feathers, and a heart attached. General Han’s fort now settles on the grimy earth with the bitter olive colored greens.

He cries in defeat. He had lost to the enemy.

cloudy eyes

"People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered. Love them anyway.
If you do good, people may accuse you of selfish motives. Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you may win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable. Be honest and transparent anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway.
People who really want help may attack you if you help them. Help them anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you may get hurt. Give the world your best anyway."
- Mother Teresa

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