Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Theme 193 - War

From @Aawara_Mann: We are like Soldiers in a War, and none of Us are back in town. I just know that victory is Mine, Before We leave this battleground. She doesn't want to leave, and I don't want to go., I don't know that how this battle goes., and I don't want to fight this kind of War..

From @swordfish19: 

“Guruji, the Gita talks about Kurukshetra, where the battle between the Pandavas and the Kauravas took place. Did that war really happen? Does Kurukshetra exist today?”

“Son, your mind is Kurukshetra. The war is always inside. All the negative senses such as anger, greed and lust are the enemies. Rise above these and you win.”  

From @flirtingshadows: They stood at opposite ends of the room. Torn and hurting, but adamant. One trying to save the other from the self. A mother trying to reason, a daughter flinching. Angry words, hot tears, air laden thick with accusations and guilt. Each wants to close the distance but hesitates. They were, after all, at war. 

From @roshd: Today was the day he'd return home duly discharged from the army hospital after that life threatening shrapnel injury. She wondered how 5year old Niharika would react. She needn't have bothered. Father and daughter seemed to be merged into each other, so tight was their embrace. The amputated leg was no issue. 

From @LifePenCripted It was a big day for him. He had to choose between his passion and what his parents' wanted. Being the only child he had responsibilities. But it required him to do what he would never love. His mind and heart were at war. He finally chose his mind. He chose his responsibilities. He sacrificed.

From @kanakkupullai: He knew he would never be able to make it to the examination. He wasn’t sufficiently prepared, not even remotely close to completing the syllabus. Many would laugh at his failures, but, what if he just passed? His mind urged him to move on, he never could. The eternal battle for glory pushed him forward.

From @zoarcher: As the clock ticks 8.50, Laxmibai valiantly enters the daily morning battlefield. Platform No. 2. Surviving harsh elbow pushes, ruthless strangling of her dupatta around her neck, stinking armpits, she manages to board the train. Just as she wins the battle, the war begins. For an empty seat, for a place to stand peacefully.   

From @DNRamki: 

He sat across the table with an empty glass in hand, and stared at her. Third time this week, they had been hurling abuses at each other. Every word she mouthed, seared through him. She didn’t seem to care too much about that though.

He’d had enough. He calmly picked up the glass, and hurled it…

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