Dark clouds loomed over the town of Patan. The trees stood still. The once bustling small town lay desolate, silently mourning. The soldiers hung their heads in shame and the commander silently watched the scene.
The silence was broken by the occasionally crackling fire of the funeral pyre.
Aadarsh stood close to the funeral pyre. His eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep. He performed the last rites of his father.
He stared at the flame in a daze. His mind was elsewhere.
Millions of thoughts raced through his mind.
'Why did I hesitate?'
'Why didn't I reach earlier?'
'Why am I weak?'
He wanted to cry but tears didn't come out anymore. It was like half his heart was forcibly torn apart.
The battle ended yesterday. He already performed the last rites. He had to protect the motherland but his legs wouldn't move.
He couldn't muster any strength in his arms. He was numb all over.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!