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WASH MY SINS

~Anubhav Kumar

It seems like it will rain any moment now. Isn't it funny that just this morning it was so sunny, the sky so clear and beautiful. Who would have thought that it would rain? I certainly did not. Then again, I thought we would win this war. But here I am, lying among fallen soldiers, not knowing whether they are allies or foes. I have lost count of the months we have been here. I do remember our Emperor's words before we marched to this city of apparent ‘barbarians’.

Though to me, they seemed the same as all of us who came to fight them, having a culture of their own, worshipping Gods the way we do, though their Gods are not the same as ours. I don't think of them as barbarians, but I would never dare to question His Majesty, or his words. His words were the same as the law to us. I do not resent the man who slashed my abdomen and left me in such a position, for he was doing his job towards his lord. I would have done the same for my lord. I don't even remember how many men I have slayed these past months. I do not regret doing my job, though I pray for them to have a peaceful afterlife, if they even believe in one. I wonder if my slayer prayed for me; only he knows the answer to that. I just wish to see my wife back at our home, and our little girl. If only I could see them again, even if it's just for a mere fleeting moment. How I wish they would not have to suffer because of my death. O dear wind that prevails throughout the Empire, take my words to them, my final feeble moments. Tell my beautiful wife to take care of herself, as I won't be able to anymore; tell my lovely daughter that her Father fought bravely, and I wish I could see her growing up. I miss my family, my town, my friends, and my whole country. They say that a warrior can have no greater fate than dying in combat, but as I lay here in a pool of my own blood, I understand that the saying is utter nonsense. I want to die old and weak, not with this heavy armour, which, without my strength, feels like a coffin on my dying body. I want to die surrounded by loved ones, in my home. Is that too much to ask? I don't even know whether I will get a funeral or not. I wish I had not been thrown into a mass burial pit. I wish that my family could visit my grave, offer me flowers for a safe journey to the afterlife.

I hear the distant clanging of swords. They are still fighting. How can I explain it to all of them? It is useless, it is futile. No amount of fighting can bring back our dead friends, no amount of fighting can cure all the grieving that has been caused by this war. And what are we even fighting for? This piece of land? To ‘defend’ ourselves from the ‘barbarians' and their country? We were the ones who attacked them in the name of defence. Imagine the terror they must have experienced when they heard us marching towards them, banging our swords and shields. Oh Gods, please forgive me for what I have done. The Emperor thinks we will win this war, but he does not understand the amount of losses his country has suffered all these months. All the fellow men we have lost on these grounds, the amount of enemy blood we have spilt here, how does it all end? How many lives will be sacrificed? All the loss and grief this war will bring. No Emperor thinks of that; all they care for is the land and vassals they gain from all these wars. Human lives are so expendable for the leaders; we are nothing more than assets for them. I wonder why it is that some humans are valued more, and some humans like us are mere tools at their disposal. Maybe in another life I will find out, or maybe even be in a position to change this narrative. Would it be possible with the way humans are? Greedy and selfish? Who knows, one can just try. I now lie on this pile, waiting for the reaper to strike, it's almost as if I can see my whole life in front of me, my parents, my marriage, my beautiful wife, my sweet child, the Emperor, this wretched war, the man who left me here to die, and the dark clouds looming over. It seems it will rain any moment now. Here it is. I feel the light rain pattering on my armour and my face. Will this drizzle wash my sins away? Probably not, but it gives me peace to think of it this way. I am unable to cling to this fleeting life anymore. My time here is over, but now I know, war does not bring ‘glory’, it just brings loss and suffering. Before I go, I pray for my family and their wellness, for my wife to gather strength for herself, and to take care of our daughter, for my fellow soldiers, may they return home safely, and may this war, and all the other wars, be over for good. May humans learn to live in harmony, understand each other's cultures before labelling each other as barbarians. I feel myself blacking out; this is it then. I smile for the last time as I pass on to the next world.

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