I have been attempting to follow the trace of the lightning every time it strikes the evening sky. Every time there is a flash lighting up the crimson sky, it has found a secret admirer in me. The fascination about the bolt of fury has drawn me to the open sky when it is wet and bright after dusk. Feeling the grass with my hands i walk till i reach the spot that I call the roof of my world. I can see the shining reflection of the lightning strikes on the drops of rain water holding tight onto the leaves, petals and the blades resisting to fall down. I could sense a fear among the drops to fall and mix with the puddle of muddy water. Though I was smiling to myself thinking about the inevitable fall eventually. Still, I was admiring the reflection within them of one of nature's strangest and most fierce spectacles. The glory of watching it from the closest proximity was to those who were ready to embrace martyrdom. Today I had to change this, that is the reason for my presence at this place that I call the roof of my world. I wanted to embrace the bolt but escape being vaporized. The final battle between the puddle of muddy water and the ocean was on the verge of being ensued.
Let me give you a tip before you bet your money on one of us, well I am going to bet on me only because I assume after a defeat my possessions would no longer be mine and hence I need not pay. But the faint blue lightning strikes again a little over a few kilometers away. I could hear it approach me now. Well not being scared as I remember from a TV documentary that the lightening picks up its victim at random. I still have hope that it picks up the old tree next to me for a battle instead of me. I still have no idea why I am calling this a battle as its a one shot n game match. Not a fight where I get to pick up or swing my sword. The lights flashing across from the city towers at a distance baffled me. I see these majestic structures installed with lightning arresters. None stand tall in front of the bolt's might. But I am not deterred by this just encouraged for not being a tall building with a conductive strip in place of its spine.
There is a sudden silence across the field, a sudden gush of wind against my face. It felt like the last warning before the face off. The sweet and captivating smell of rain in the wind just made it look more like an advice than a warning. A slight drizzle was next to follow the wind I could see the ambiance getting a little relaxed now. The green blades were shining again in the twilight as the moon was still behind the dark aerial bully. The sound of thunder and bright flashes were still making there presence felt but not anywhere around me. I was still alert even though the fear on my face now was more of an anachronism as things were peaceful now.
It was time for dinner and I had to head back home. The wait was not looking fruitful as the sky was clearing up and now all those drops clinging on to the leaves were an inseparable part of the muddy puddles below them. The moon was shining through the leafless branches of the old tree next to me. It looked very much like a truce from the world war stories and what re-affirmed the truce story was that all I could see in my immediate surroundings were puddles with the crimson sky reflection and an old leafless tree.
Walking back home should have been like a homecoming of a war hero. I had won the battle finally. I was there ready to fight but the lightning called for a truce, so I win and I am alive to tell the story. The sleepless nights dreaming about this day are finally over and I can sleep finally after a life time full of dreaming and planning for this big night. I turn back one last time to look at the battle ground and smile. But wait why is the old tree on flames and when did this happen. I never even heard a sound. It was a silent strike of death perhaps. The silent assassin wins again and yet again an innocent random victim and this time it was not me.
