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Hold that line

wolf-519226_640No, I’m not a lone wolf. Wolves aren’t soft and cuddly. Wolves don’t have big and lumbering figures that take three years to make a turn. They’re agile, they’re swift, decisive, always going in for the kill. At least I’d like to think so; if not the better. Oh no, I’m not a wolf. Maybe a bear. Thick. Warm. Makes porridge for the family. Protective. Likes honey. Yeah, something like a bear alright. Would make an excellent coat.
Thing with bears though; they have really thick fur, braving even the longest of winters. That fur isn’t easy to sink teeth into. Or claws. It would take a great deal for a wolf to bring a bear down. A lone wolf surely can’t take the bear.  That’s why he brings friends.

But what did the bear ever do. I’m guessing all the guy did was become extra clingly to a pot of honey. Or probably the wolves weren’t even targeting the bear. They were just out looking for something to chew on and this “monster” decides it isn’t having any of it. For some reason, the bear decides that those “creatures” are its responsibility, and are worth protecting?

This isn’t the first time the bear is taking a last stand. He probably is the patron saint of the last stand. He’s used to it by now. He knows it’s gonna sting. He knows it may not end well. But he plants those trees he calls feet into the ground; and with his most excellent Gandalf impression takes all the punishment and holds that line. No wolf gets past here. Not on his watch.

During battle, the single thought in a soldier’s head is the difference between life and death. Between going home with decorated clad or in a body bag. I’d sure like to know what spurs the bear on. What’s keeps his resolve strong. What makes every scratch, swipe and bite worth it.

Is it that the others get to safety and and live happily ever after? No that can’t be it; they probably aren’t even concerned about him, and may never see him again. Is it the honey pot he’s left at home or the zingy feeling of the snow nursing his wounds with a slight yet addictive sting? Maybe. But I think it’s something more. I think the bear knows the strongest and most fragile force on the planet, and is ready to die if it means he has to protect it. And that force is nothing other than hope.

Hope for a new tomorrow,  hope for a better tomorrow. Hope that this is not the end. Hope that life suck, just for now. Without hope we’re already dead; we’re circling the drain. But with hope, with even the smallest bit of hope, strength is born. Hope is that light guiding you out of the tunnel, without it you’re better off in a hole.

The thing with  lone wolves is that they go into hiding when injured. Too proud to show weakness. It matters how others see them. But not bears. There’s no time for a bear to hide. There’s too much at stake. If they’re breathing they’re dancing with the wolves. They’ll stop when they’re dead.

But does the bear have hope then? Wait, who protects the bear’s hope?

This isn’t about the bear.

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Courtesy: Achapeinn.com

I had a dream;
I was all alone; in a box, a pitch black box. I wasn’t sure if I had put myself in there, or if they had put me in there; but I was there nonetheless. Cold, dark, lonely; i wanted to cry out, not that I couldn’t, but I didn’t. The darkness was my home, the cold my shelter. This was my space, my place. I figured I’d just stop fighting; its okay to lose…

Yet at that moment the box began to move, it began to drop; it was an elevator… Maybe it wasn’t; but I was descending; descending at a steady pace. Flickers of light making their way through; darkness was dissipating. I as sank further, I made out figures of people, couples holding hands, giggling… They looked at me, and smiled. They were beaming; i wasn’t sure why. Then I noticeably slowed down, I was reaching the bottom..

I heard a voice; “there she is…”

‘Who?’ I asked.
“…”
But there she was. Her beaming smile putting darkness to flight. She was warm. And as she held out her hand, time began to freeze; as if to give me a chance to think, to consider, to hesitate, to be sure; I am the second-guesser.

This time it was different. This time, more than ever, I wanted this. With all the life in me, I grabbed that hand, with zero intent to let go; not now not ever. And just like that, all the doubts; all the ‘if’s and ‘what if’s, all the plan B’s, dissolved. Into thin air, into clear water, they were gone; they were no longer necessary. Like when two fists of ninja clash and the intent in their hearts is made clear; the feeling of our two hands touching connected the feelings of our two hearts. At that moment, something was passed. It rushed through my body, my sub conscience, my soul; like a drug, with a calming, yet reassuring effect. I’m not letting go.

Words were never uttered; they weren’t needed. But they loudly reverberated within my being.

“It’s going to be okay; because I love you too.”

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