The Saint and The Soldier

The woods were calm, animals dozing in the lazy afternoon and the birds chirping for the sake of chirping. Suddenly, a blinding white light in the middle of nowhere shook the wildlife out of wits. The stage was cleared, out of the dust appeared a humble saint under a robe, the simplicity of which could shock the aristocracy to death. He felt satisfied and muttered to himself, “What a bliss to be alive and kicking again” as he stretched out his arms in contentment. Surely, freezing oneself in time for over half a millennium was not an easy business. The saint, an advocate of curiosity, wanted to see what life galore years from would be then. Performing an intricate ritual, he froze himself, as if he was nothing but an art of Michelangelo. Now, he was back again, brimming with energy to explore the world that lay before him.

He walked the first few steps, trying to judge the space around him. “The woods don’t seem much different.”, he remarked to himself. Then, to his delight, he saw some difference in the world. What he saw was a bunch of metal rolled into thin intricacies piled up to double his height. And, out of nowhere, a muscular man in weird clothing stopped him, “Trespassing, huh? Can’t you see that’s the border? I think you are a smuggler of some kind. What do you deal with – guns, drugs, grenades? You don’t seem an expert though.” The saint tried to sink in the enormity of the moment and let out his thoughts, “Do aliens live there? I definitely want to see them then.”

The soldier felt he was talking to a five-year-old kid, “Of course not! Are you a rogue clown? There are humans across the border, just like you and me! But they belong to another nation. So, don’t even think of stepping foot there.” The saint said, “Humans? What’s the issue, then? How can they possibly keep some land for themselves? Doesn’t a human-like me have the right to walk on Mother Earth? I just want to explore the world.”

The soldier wanted to erupt like the Mount Krakatoa, he was losing his patience fast. The saint was lucky, he was not shot on sight. With the tremendous presence of mind, he said, “Whatever! You can’t go on that side of the border. It’s the rule, though I must ask what kind of a clown you are?” The saint was pretty enraged, but he was an old man and did not have further energy, so he said with a sigh, “Oh! How I wanted to explore the world. My time was so good- I could travel anywhere without restrictions. People would respect me, unlike you. I still don’t understand why walking a few steps further in that direction can harm anyone.” The soldier thought to himself, “Trying to melt me, huh? This fellow does not look he could kill an ant, but who knows how this world is…”

The soldier, trying to put some sense into the saint, said, “That is another country, another territory, right? You need to have a visa, passport and a truck of documents to go there. Who knows you are not a rogue mafia?” The soldier’s patience was over. He knew if the so-called ‘saint’ tried a trick any further, he would shoot him himself. The saint was very dejected, and as if calling upon a being in the sky (which the soldier thought was wicked), he exclaimed, “Oh Good Lord! What have you done to this Earth? People are divided by borders, by weird-looking, disrespectful ugly men. Save them, Lord, save them!”

The soldier thought he had a point, but was deeply offended, as was evident by his face and made his final warning, “Look, the world is like this, it is ruled by borders, guns, politics, and hatred. You or I cannot change it. It’s going to remain the way it is. You cannot go there simply because you want to. So, leave now, before I shoot you!”. The saint was engulfed in thought, “So, the times of love and brotherhood are long gone, I thought maybe humans were done with wars and treating others like non-humans. They still can see the difference between themselves. The world is an ugly place.”, the saint started walking away, muttering to himself. The soldier heaved a sigh of relief, but he stood there for a long time, making sense of the saint’s words.

After he had exhausted his brains, he said, “Nonsense, a typical peace guru” and walked away. The saint was disappointed, “No hope for them. I should rather explore some other era- past or future”, he said to himself. Hoping that humans would understand that they all were same and would not destroy the Earth in the name of borders, he carefully took out his book of rituals, he muttered a verse and petrified himself for until the humans actually realized brotherhood…. For hope is a good thing, and no good thing ever dies.