Death was right in front of him, staring at him in his eyes. He wanted to cry but somehow he could hear his father’s voice echoing in the depths of his mind, “A Soldier should die before he can cry”.
Maybe the tears won’t have to wait for long now, death was here and his last seconds were slipping away through the hour-glass of his life. His perception had slowed down, betraying the speed with which the aircraft was going down. Even at this moment, he wasn’t thinking about himself. He had a little realization at the back of his head, about the village beneath.
A shrill beeping sound repeated with a robotic warning, “Secondary engine has failed”.
The warning message wasn’t comprehendible to him as a deep trance was gradually taking control of him. The memories were playing in his mind, his entire life was flashing in front of him, like nostalgic imagery from a projector with frequent dotted patterns.
There was an adorable little child running in the backyard, with his mother running right after him and the father running right behind them with a water nozzle. They’d suddenly fallen down and laughed. Then there was that beautiful woman he had bid farewell, with a promise to come back and a kiss. She was right in front of him; he wanted to hold her once, just once.
The imagery faded away in a flash as he saw a welcoming sight of a rocky patch of a mountain from the cockpit window. The thought of saving the village made him smile. He was crying without tears and smiling with pride. Something told him that it was time to surrender control as the destination was here. The smile did not leave his face and the tears did not flow from his eyes. With arms spread open and eyes comfortably shut, he just waited.
The moments slipped away, his eyes were still shut, and there wasn’t any unusual sensation. Finally he opened his eyes watching a group of ladies clad in white, dancing gracefully. A white bearded man sitting before him, turned back, raised his drink and said “Welcome aboard, Son”.
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For those men of honor, heaven's door is always open.
1 comment:
I respect you for writing this.
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