Respected Sir,
While I sit here in my study writing this undistinguished letter, you are putting every last bit of your strength to the battle field and therefore, I want to ask you something; something that I do not understand.
Tell me, sir! How does it feel to stand side by side, with your fellow soldiers, entrusting your fate in the hands of a lifeless weapon; how does it feel to grip on it tightly as if you are gripping onto your dear life. And you look ahead towards the battle field not knowing whether you will come back home, or die a soldier's magnificent death. Do you hear the voices of your loved ones overpowering the angry cries of your enemies as you advance towards them; do you feel your mother's protective embrace and see your father's face boosting with pride as you advance. How much do you long to hear your younger brother's stories; of how he saw a blue bird that looked rather green and for that hint of longing in your lover's eyes as you said your last goodbye. Tell me-how does it feel to stand amidst madness seeing your friends laying lifeless before you when just last night you were laughing over drinks with them: shot, torn apart, the world seems like it's breaking into smithereens. How does it feel to know that the same doom awaits you? The air reeks of gun powder and blood and fright, tell me why don't you run away. And then as you picture this all in your head and the first gun shot is fired, you still continue forward with the purest of faith and littlest of fear. You are truly brave unlike me and that is why I cannot understand. So, tell me- for I want to understand.
I cannot understand because I'm weak and a coward who whines about getting up early every day and not getting her favorite orange juice in breakfast. I hardly leave the mansion because it is dangerous outside and I lock myself in my study cursing my fortune as I bury myself into my books. I hold my grades dearer to me than my life, or the life of others. Such selfishness! And yet, on exam days I give up without even trying. My parents are just another obstacle to me and my siblings are a constant nuisance. Sometimes, I even wish they would disappear. And my room is over flowing with expensive clothes and gadgets of all kind, but to me that is not enough. I want more. I cannot stand the sight of mere blood, or the taste of those medicines in the house infirmary. And at the end of the day, the concept of a challenging life scares me and I want to quit. I'm not brave unlike you.
Now, you see that I cannot understand; so, tell me what it is like, to be a proud soldier as you stand in the battle field protecting ungrateful fools like me.
Yours faithfully,
An ungrateful fool
