The Night

It rises slowly and silently

            to the muted beat of the moon rise,

                        with the stars twinkling in applause,

                                    Lo and Behold, the Night has risen.

The glimmering waters dance with the force of the moon.

            The wandering mind locks its gaze with the audaciously mellow night,

                        then it relives the laughs of the day and quietly sheds tears for pain

                                    Lo and Behold, the Night has risen.

There are no rainbows to light a pathway in the infinite sky,

            Nor any chirping birds to fill the air with their mellifluous sounds.

                        In their absence, unadorned, the charm of the changeling dusk grows.

                                    As the need to decorate slips away the mind meets the soul,                                         undone.

                                                Lo and Behold, the Night has risen.

The twinkling stars hold steady from one moment to the next,

            the twinkling stars move across leagues, even in their perceived stillness.

                        From one moment to the next the night changes the world,

                                    then again, nothing changes at all, magic breeds reality.

                                                Lo and Behold, the Night has risen.

Little by little, the air becomes still, with every step,

            the footsteps get lighter and quieter.

                        In reverence to the passing of another day,

                                    heavy with the memories of every breath,

                                                the eyes close to the world.

                                                            Lo and Behold, the Night has fallen.

~Rishika Sudhir Dhody

Letter to an unknown soldier

To commemorate the centennial of The Great War, all were invited to write a letter to an unknown soldier, whose statue can be found in Britain. More can be found about it here.

Here's my entry:

Dear Unknown Soldier,

This is a letter from the future, for the past. Today, we commemorate 100 years since The Great War, your War. It is strange how more often than not it takes the destructive forces of war to strengthen the thread between the future and the past.

It's not like wars were not fought before this and let me assure you, that wars will continue to be fought after this one as well, but this one will forever be known as the Great War. So, what is it that makes it Great? I don't know the answer to that question, maybe you will at the end of this, whenever that comes. Do write back to me then.

Even 100 years later, I can't help but shiver at the courage that you must've been possessed with to fight in that war. No war is fought for a just cause, all wars are fought because the soldiers have the courage to put one foot in front of another. I can't judge you for your sins and nor can I praise you for your good deeds; All I can do is admire the courage that you have to face one of the darker moments in history and believe that light lies ahead. Maybe that's why a war is fought, for Hope.

Even though your heart is filled with courage and you have faith in Hope, you are about to face some tough challenges ahead. Much like a seer, I can tell you that trenches, death and pain lie ahead. But as all seers I may be wrong. Maybe yours is a different story. Maybe the Great War that you are a part of will truly pull humanity through the darkness, into the light., one human at a time. Even a century later, I hope for the latter.

As the war begins, this letter must come to an end. I hope that this letter from the future serves as a warm hug and a heartfelt wave with the quintessential twinkling eye to remind you of the reassurance and wholesomeness of the human touch and expression, as you courageously set out in your journey to save mankind and find the world that Hope promised us all.

With a centennial filled with hopeful Smiles,

Rishika Sudhir Dhody

When

Numbers. They were used to quantify.

10 deaths, 50 deaths, 116 deaths. Now they all mean the same.

They all mean nothing.

Numbers. When did they lose their ability to quantify?

Peace. It used to be the status quo.

Rockets, Missiles, Rebels, Terrorists. Now they define the norm.

The day is now incomplete without a tempest wrecking peace.

Peace. When did we let go of it?

Sympathy and Empathy. They led the world to help to heal the hurt.

Mutilation, Rape, Explosions, Child Soldiers. The wounds only get deeper and deeper.

There is no medicine available to blanket the festering pain.

Sympathy and Empathy. When did they decide that we were too damaged to heal?

Love. It used to make the world go around.

Indifference, Ignorance, Hatred. Now the world has stopped in a cold cavern.

The wheels have stopped moving and the quicksand of desolation is sinking fast.

Love. When did we lose the audacity to revel in it?

~Rishika Sudhir Dhody