The
two kingdoms, one small and the other larger, had now been fighting over some
long-forgotten issue since a time that no one cared to remember anymore. The
larger kingdom, ruled by a just and wise king, was winning. But too heavy a
price had already been paid for this. Too many men had been lost on both sides
and too much money had been poured into the war for any of the parties to be
able to back out now.
The
oppressive king of the smaller kingdom passed a new order, making it compulsory
for all able-bodied men to enlist in the army and join the war to bring victory
to their king. The order was met with meek voices of protest from the scared
residents of a small village of that kingdom. Everyone knew that victory was
out of the question. Going on a war against the technologically superior armies
of their enemy kingdom was like going on a suicide mission. No soldier who had
gone from the village till now had returned. All the young and healthy men in
the village had become martyrs to the whims of their king. The ones left were
old, unenthusiastic and feeble. They had neither the strength nor the will to
revolt against the king, which meant that the order had to be obeyed. And to
ensure that everyone obeyed the order and no one was left out, the king had even
sent out an officer to each village. So everyone knew there was no other
option; yet, no one wanted to accept their helplessness. No one ever wants to
lead on the path of death.
The
peasant was on the farm when the royal messenger proclaimed the new order. He
was just an assembly of bones; weak and frail. He hadn't had much to
eat in the past week. He had a wife and four children, waiting at home with
empty stomachs. He saw the reaction of other men in the village. They were not
ready to accept that they had no choice. But the peasant knew there was no way
out. He might be week but he still was able-bodied. He accepted his fate. What
the villagers saw, silenced them all. They stared in astonishment as the frail
peasant dropped his plough on the field and walked up to the officer. He was
ready to go to war. The other men in the village, silenced due to their shame
at not having had as much courage as the peasant, marched up and join the
waiting officer. He had accepted his fate. The people mistook it for Bravery.
Needless to say, he never returned to his family but for generations to come,
the people talked of the peasant as the bravest of the men who were born in
that village.
In
the meantime, the king of the larger kingdom was faced with a situation. His
army was in need of fresh batches of troops to be deployed on the frontier. But
he didn't have to force men to enlist. He hoped that there would still be
enough young men left, who would be willing to lay down their lives voluntarily
for their motherland. He passed the order: the kingdom needed them; all those
who wished could join the army.
When
the announcement was made, many a men volunteered – mostly people who were
experienced; either blacksmiths, who were used to dealing with weapons or men
who had participated in wars sometime in the past. No one needs second telling
on the path to glory. As soon as the youth heard the news, he ran towards the
town center, where wagons were being prepared to leave with all the
enlisting men. Hoards of people had crowded around to cheer them up and wish
them well. The youth ran up to the place and jumped into one of the wagons. The
people were astonished to see this. He was the son of the richest family in the
town and was to inherit the family business. His marriage was scheduled in a
week’s time. He had all the things going for him. Yet he chose to leave all
this behind and go to war? He had no experience of war. He was from a rich
family and had never even been in a street fight in his life. He wouldn't last
a single day on the field. Yet they were struck by the fearlessness in his
eyes, by his determination. So they said nothing. The youth had made the
decision of his life. He just did not believe that anything could happen to
him. He would be victorious and would return home a hero. He was not ready to
think about death yet. He still had a long way to go. Everyone thought he would
die, but he knew he won’t. He denied his fate. The people mistook it for
Bravery. Needless to say, he never returned to his family but for generations
to come, the people talked of the youth as the bravest of the men who were born
in that town.
How come, this bravery came up in your mind?
ReplyDeleteHow this?
I didn't get what exactly u tried to say..except for the story? Moral values?
Two meanings ?
What i wanna say is that ppl called it bravery. Whereas, neither of their actions were actually prompted by it. One was following compulsion, the other wanted to b a hero and to serve his country.
ReplyDeleteSo i am trying to say that bravery lies only in the eyes of the beholder. Also, there is the debate that which action requires more courage, accepting ur fate or denying/challenging it?
This thought came to my mind and i decided to present it in the form of a story.
so This was more deeper than i thought....i read it like a story....let me read it again..!
ReplyDelete