We Are In This Together

By Aayushmaan Malviya

God tests his best knights,

But never thinks about them for once.

Obviously problems flight,

But take away tons.

It might not be the right time,

As rightly said.

When time's committing a crime,

You are just waiting for the death bed.

I feel empty from inside,

As all tears have dried.

All my brothers are playing seek-and-hide,

But about their positions they have lied.

I saw a bird chirping everyday, 

Keeping me up.

Now the bird's turned into hay,

Torso in the eagle's nest, blood in the vulture's cup.

Others are playing a game of chess,

I am a participant.

Just sitting here to impress,

Making up a tent.

Just a calm and breezy commencement to the day, slipping down some warm coffee in the backyard, awaiting the newspaper, since surfing is better than scrolling. The doorbell rang, I rested my demitasse on the escritoire, my socks gently tickled my feet as I went down the corridor. Opening the mailbox, it felt like the most refreshing essence trapped me and I leaned into it, willingfully. There was a new attachment alongside the newspaper.  A letter, directed to my address, it was from my home, my ancestral house where I lived before moving out. Pure maple manuscript pages, I instantly got the hang of the writer. Only my mother can write a letter in the era of video conferences.

10th Street Avenue

Strait Park,

Wellingham Alley

March 2nd 2026

Dear son,

I've been longing for you since eternity, I hope you are fine and doing a terrific job at work. It is probably the last letter I am composing, I've been sick since the last few weeks, I am under constant surveillance of medical support, but these medicines can only block the way for a few days, otherwise your father is calling me. Before I walk the stairs I want to see my son once. 

Hope you can take some time out from the urban wind.

With my warmest regards,

Your mother.

The pandemonium was febrile. My tears couldn't handle my distraught but they tried their very best. It was time for me to head back to my roots. I swept away the dust from my portmanteau, packed my life in it, and made a run for the bus.

The fresh air, the raw streets with hearts of gold. I, for a moment, forgot my purpose. All of my crumbled confidence and trepidation wafted up in the air. Even though it was a remote vicinity, but the experience was incredulous. While I was delved into my own nostalgia, a woman, with a creaky voice and a slightly bent back, but flawless hair patted my shoulders. 

"I missed you so much. I am just hanging on a cliff with my hopes clinged on your arrival. I wanted to meet you once before I break ties from the earthly abstracts."

The room consisted of just the two of us, but the memories and versatile emotions left no corner vacant. I looked over my childhood draped over the wall. We spent the night with tranquility, immersed into the past, I heard some bellows which reminded me of the wolves that used to protect us during the night, I comforted myself in the warmest blanket, but it felt like the urban wind has frozen my equipment. It seemed like the howls had no intention of hitting the skids, so I clustered some pebbles to ensure that they maintain a distance from our house. The cold breeze shuddered my spirit but something had to be done. The wooden doors of our house were opened to the startling visuals of a crew of men with the most expensive arms all locked and loaded. I rushed back to my house to ensure that my mother does not wake up. " Why are you trembling?" She said in a faint voice with her eyes closed, I didn't respond. The night darkened and finally a void was suspended in the air. The dawning sun endeavoured and carved out the greatest challenge. When the clock struck 12 noon, a dozen or more men rusted the town hall, announcing that they have held the town hostage and acts of repulsion won't reap fruitful outcomes. All of us were ransacked into an old library, with no food, no water whatsoever, just the one gallon of soda stationed near the gate. I was tensed about my mother's state, her health was slendering, all this escalated her pulse above hundred. I calmed her down but for how long. We were indefinitely trapped in this bunker of death with absolutely no inkling of the future.

The mendicants of Mercy,

Dragged into the null and void.

The bunker turned into the innocence's penitentiary,

People just scrolling it down on their Droid.

Five days went by, every second felt like an hour, and now the terrorists had to do what they did. They broke into the scene and shot one down in front of the gate as a message to the media and to the government. The trepidation resonated our souls. Our throats were slit, the sounds of birds flapping away incarcerated our senses, every five to ten days, they came in, shot one, and went back. It felt like we were just toys to them. I tried to keep my mother calm but the only words she would say incessantly were "They are going to kill us." My heart was torn apart into fragments. A month passed, her dilapidation crept up on my senses. We were sitting in the puddle of blood that once rushed in the nerves of our brothers. I was just feeding my mother her medicines with the help of the soda and keeping her distracted with the ostentatious abstracts when a couple of guys stormed in. The gates creaked open and the dark room was illuminated, I saw a hope in that light as we were finally set free. My mother and I finally inhaled the air of freedom. A sense of tranquil rushed past my soul as I tossed a look upon my mother to finally witness her smile, which I missed for a whole month, but her expression was contrary to my expectations, her eyes were shut, the Sun never rised.

After the cremation of her choice, I went back to my home. Which was just a piece of land now. When I looked at the past, it was dark. The cataclysmic events of the last month left a drastic impact and an everlasting scar. While I was sitting at the bed where she would tuck me to the blanket and sing me lullabies, I heard the knocking of the door, picking up the piece of cardboard which had my illustration with another woman, I mustered all my courage and opened the door. The neighbors were clustered on the street.

"We are in this together."

By Aayushmaan Malviya