Blood lust.

Its funny that i havent written for a long time. Funny because so much has happened and I have somehow managed to drown myself in my own self deprecating logic and lethargy and have remained mum. I travelled through the highest road in the world, tasted the salty waters of the pang-gong, drove through zoji-la, tasted then-thuk and pee-shee and lived and never wrote abt it till now. Oh yes by the way I also shot some stupid guy burning a mini-bus.

Not bad eh! Enough action I would say to generate adrenaline by the gallons and also enough conscience to drain every ounce of motivation and satisfaction. If I didnt know better I would definitely say " Dementors at work".

It pinches and pricks when every ray of sunshine and every drop of rain seem to taunt and remind me of the blood I have spilled. Maybe its the guilt I feel or the cold feet I have developed, it frightens me. I never thought I could hurt somebody like that. Not in ignorance and not in haste but in pure fervour and earnest. I enjoyed the pain and the groans. When I realised and awoke from the battle inflated blood lust, I wept. I wept for the life I had taken, I wept for the tears of a mother. I thumped my hollow chest and proclaimed my mowing down of an anti-national and I cried because I had become an anti-human.

Strange thoughts to engulf one who kills by profession is nt it? The fact is we have all forgotten that killing is always by profession and not by choice and we dont enjoy it. All that I fear is that, I may be in a position again to kill and lose the nerve to let loose the ammo. I hope I can go on with my job and I fervently hope the pride and the honour swamps the guilt and the remorse.

I pray for the pride to swell my chest and press the trigger often to do what I know is necessary. I pray for the souls I injure and my own. I pray for the fortitude to do this again and again and again. I pray for the day when remorse is but a word that I hear and not an emotion I combat.