Warning: Those who scream at the sight of a cat or have hearts that cannot bear the rush of a rollercoaster ride, do NOT read this.
Still reading ? Well, I warned you :p..
Screams echoing as far as one could hear, the enemy strikes, fragile hands stop their work and look up, their hands scurrying for something that could be used to yield, panic empowers, chaos fathoms and one prays for mercy or a ‘mighty’ one who destroys the enemies wings and brings it down to its feeble knees.
Amongst the hullabaloo the eyes fall on a person who seems strong and confident, middle aged with a commander-like arch of the eyebrow. He shouts out orders to soldiers, reminding them to calm down and remain at their positions but t o no avail. His voice dies down like the song of a bird by the sea of angry waves.
The soldiers clamber on top of each other, making sure they are not to the ones to be in the enemy’s way. Quick feet scurry towards the exit but the commander keeps them stationed, with beating hearts and reminders of them expected to be ‘strong as steel walls’ ringing in their ears. The visions a soldier on the battlefield has to bear are too cruel for a fain heart and unimaginable for the rest, yet these soldiers dare to put their life on the line. These soldiers, with hands tight on the weapons, then wait for the enemy to approach. Nobody blinks.
Yet there are those who seem the least bothered about the scene in front of them. They sit in groups, hiding their faces from all the rest, mimicking the ‘strong ones’ who are out on the battlefield. These are the ones who believe that no matter what happens, the attacks or the disasters that this world faces will not influence them. They are fearless, yet they do not stand up to fight the enemy.
At this time all the faces turn, the commander, the soldiers and the madmen, their eyes fixed on the enemy who just showed signs of movement. The enemy draws near, near that one sitting alone and is unaware of all that is going on around him. All faces turn white and mouths open but no words come out as the enemy draws near the silent victim, aiming its deadly sword as sharp as the prick of needle, aiming it right towards the victims ear. Wait. Yes, I did say ear and I did mention a sword in a century when vicious weapons of mass destruction are used.
That is only because, this is not what happened at Gaza or Afghanistan, neither is a scenario of any World War or a gorilla war and it certainly is not an atmosphere of an uprising.
It is what happens when a mere bee, yes a black and yellow bee, unaware of the effects its presence might cause enters the classroom window.
Buzzing and flying, the teacher holds his head, the faint hearts run for their lives while the rest sit back, stretch their muscles, put down their pens and find an excuse not to study.
Thankyou Mr.Bee :D
You turned a sleepy class into the most awake one :D
And you gave me the idea on what to write about :p..
P.S. It is a true story :D
P.P.S. (I use p.p.s. alot don't I :p )
P.P.P.S. I hope a bee comes in again xD.. This time I'm going to make sure it keeps flying until the bell rings :p..