The Scribbled Fields

3rd October

Dear Anton,

                    It took me some days to reply to your letter as my family is on the move presently. We crossed the river yesterday; our clothes haven't dried yet. My mother is shivering like hell, it is very cold here. It's really difficult to hold back my tears while writing this letter. My father is back there, fighting with the army. The attack from your side is ferocious. Our home should've been reduced to powder by now. In the hurry, I forgot to take your pen with me. My sister pulled me out of my room in the nick of time, when a missile totally destroyed our neighbor's house. Poor Mr. Szpillmann, he was alone and schizophrenic.

                  My brother, "The Revolutionary" as we call him, has found his lost corps at Blaken Forest. The corps has grown to a full-fledged army, with anonymous funding. He has been promoted to Colonel, the General of the corps is his childhood friend. He is trying to coax me and my sister Anya to join the corps, to fight by their side. My mother is strongly against the proposal.

               The tree on which I am resting my back on, it's bark is soft. Maybe this place was blessed by rain recently? Anyways, I hope that you are alright, and we could embrace each other like the old days.

Yours,

Agnieszka.

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10th October

Dear Agni,

                 I got your letter and it is a relief to hear from you. I was very worried about you as the news programs here are continuously showing your city grounded to ashes. I must say that it is really very sad, the mere concept of leaving your house permanently. Much more worse is the pain of separation. I am proud of your father and I am worried at the same time. May your god help him in this hour of predicament.

                I am jumping from one place to another for some days now. People are shutting their doors on my face. I am sitting on the footpath riht now, writing this letter. My building has been bombed, the fire has not been put out till now. The fiery devil is eating on my works. As I told you when we met last, I am a controversial figure here. It seems that questioning a country's ideological preferences amounts to popular negligence towards the claimant.

            About your brother's corps, I am with your mother on this one. You should not kill any human being, Agni. Death is the most beautiful wish anyone can ask for, and it should dealt by nature, not by bullets or anything unnatural. You are the personification of fire, Agni, never ever forget that.

          I am on my way to my friend Zoltan's house. Perhaps he'll have the heart to shelter me, like the lofty tree guarding a newborn plant, opening its eyes to the world with honesty and grace as its shield. I will be waiting for your reply. Be careful.

Yours,

Anton.

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19th October

Dear Anton,

                   I just got your letter and I have read it a dozen times already. I got a notebook lying by the stream the other day, half-buried into the damp earth. That would answer your question about this paper's quality. God is helping us and our love, Anton. It's high time you should accept the existence of God.

                My family is free from constant worry now. Two days ago, my brother, who has temporarily left the corps, stumbled upon my father's fellow compatriot. He broke the bad news to us. I am ashamed of myself and my family. We were not able to shed even one drop of tear for the man who has steered us through all kinds of obstacles in his life. My mother has stopped shivering after hearing the news. You are right, nothing can compete the pain and sadness of separation. It pierces through your heart.

               It pains me to hear your plight. I am deeply sorry about your house and your works. I'll pray for your safe health. Do you remember the poem you would always sing at the college?

"Ask the sparrow mad,

till where did it fly?

Did it fly because

of its furry wings?

Or did it fly,

because his love for,

the clouds blinded him,

into flying for eternity,

without an end to his love."

Sometimes, these lines give me more pleasure than my hand itself. All thanks to you. We are moving southwards to take refuge under my Aunt. Her area has not been affected till now. Wish us luck.

Yours,

Agnieszka.

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26th October

Dear Agni,

                 I am writing from my friend Zoltan's cozy abode. Now, before you begin thanking your dear God, Zoltan accepted me to his house before you might've got my letter. I should say this back to you, it's high time you stopped believing in such stuff.

                 You are stronger than your creator. Fire engulfs everything, resembling an organism. Nothing remains after it leaves. That's what you are, Agni. You know your nickname's meaning. I hope that you finally understand your power.

                 I'm deeply sorry about your father. I'm feeling as if he's standing near me, looking over me like an earnest eagle. I remember the day when he came to the college to meet you.I must tell you that he's my role model. Who can be greater than a soldier, who guards his country against all odds?

                 I failed in the physical examinations, as you know. Otherwise, who knows, I might be writing this letter from the battlefield, or your letters would get delivered to my grave? As a noble sign of remembrance?

                 I am deeply indebted to this war. It has made us revisit the ancient art of letter writing. What could be a greater way of communication than this? If Galileo or Sergei Eisenstein were alive today, they would wonder why are all these people talking to themselves? Even though, talking through mobile phones makes us feel closer to each other, your handwriting and the paper transports me to you. When I touch them, I feel like I'm touching your very hands. I cried a bit when that teary paper came to me.

                  You do remember my poem. It took me back to those glorious days. Sometimes I wake up suddenly, staring at the ceiling, regretting about my decision. I should've taken that job, at least we would've had a better future.

                    Be careful about that aunt of yours. If god really existed, I am sorry to say this but your aunt would've been one of Satan's stooges. Lashes for soiling clothes? Satan would be jealous of her.

                     Let me close this letter with another poem of mine.

"Sometimes I ponder,
Upon the grass,
Upon the bark,
Upon the wall,
Which stands haughtily,
Between us two.
Why does a simple,
Sublime and serene,
Thing as this wall,
Spurs us into killers?
Even a rose petal,
Can make differences,
Which us humans,
Can't even dream to do."

Yours,

Anton.

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2nd November

Dear Anton,

                    You have sent a really long letter. We reached my aunt's house three days ago. She took us in with hatred, as we expected. She barely beat her eyes when we informed her about Father. I don't know how such people are born in this world. I don't have that much time to write, I'll have to keep this short. The poem was really beautiful. You haven't lost your touch. I am happy that you've got shelter at last. I have lost all hope on you believing in God. The hillock border is nearby. As that place is left untouched, why don't we meet each other? Reply me with a date which would be perfect for both of us. Missing you a lot.

Yours,

Agnieszka.

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7th November

Dear Agni,

                 How are you? The services are getting slower and slower by the day here. Just now, an army truck passed by. A soldier announced that victory is imminent. People are throwing flowers from their vases on the truck. The truck has proved to be a beacon of hope and optimism to these people. They are beginning to forget the atrocities both armies have done to each other. No one would think that a guy like me is exchanging letters with an enemy. That's just too disturbing to even think.

                I don't think that I'd be able to come to the border because it's not untouched after all. The Army has built a barbed wall on that hillock to denote the former position of the border. I'm really sorry.

                Do reply soon. I want to see you but just let the situation ease out. Love you.

Yours,

Anton.

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16th November

Dear Anton,

                   I killed my Aunt. I feel horrible to start this letter like this, but I felt to tell you this in a straightforward manner.

                   My sister was washing Aunt's clothes, when a crow dropped on her dirty yellow gown. My Aunt ran an hot iron rod on my sister's back. How can I just stand there and watch? A stab to the bosom was enough. We had to move out before our nephew came home from the mines. My brother's corps were stationed in the next village. They accepted him again, and this time he has no wish to return. The corps managed to find us a shack for rest. I can feel my nephew and his miner friends chasing us till here, with spades, javelins and perhaps dynamite?

                 Yes, I just came back from the hillock border. Maybe God wants us to meet peacefully? After the war, perhaps?

                 Last night, the General came to visit us and explained to us the objectives and motto of the corps - to overthrow the government by winning this war and installing a 'peaceful' government. My mother sent him out respectfully, inviting the wrath of my brother. The coaxing is growing by the day. I've started to feel that I have this ability to fight, which would be useful for my country at large. I should start being productive now. I should be a citizen of my country. What should I do? Will you look at me with the same eyes with which you saw me in our college days? I am a murderer now, beware. Reply soon.

Yours,

Agnieszka.

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20th November

Dear Agni,

                 Don't worry about anything. Your Aunt deserved to die, either by a bullet or by a knife. Stay quiet and don't come under any pressure from your brother. Is it necessary to kill to show your loyalty to a warring nation? Your Army has entered the city and is nearing my block. The postman is standing near me, waiting. Reply soon and don't join the corps. Expect my next letter by the 28th, if I remain alive.

Yours,

Anton.

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26th November

Dear Anton,

                   I lost everything two days ago. Your Army fired artillery upon the whole village. I was pulled away from my family by the corps. The whole village was burnt. I found my mother and my sisters yesterday, burnt to the bone. I was thinking of dying, but now, I'll have to kill; to live, to survive this hell.

                   I have decided to join the corps. I have to avenge my family. The General accepted me with full honors. This time, I'm not asking for your opinion, I'm merely informing you. I'm sorry to go against your 'orders', I am obstinate on this decision of mine. I have to say some things in this letter. I'm not your pooch or something, to say yes to every word of yours. You are being too dominant around me. You are not ready to believe in God and you are just trying to shell out sympathy from me via your letters, when I am in much more pitiful condition than yours. It's my modesty that I revere your poems in such times, even though I was the one who took out the subject of your poems.

                    If we are going to meet, please change yourself into a human being. Be careful and stay away from the Army.

Agnieszka.

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30th November

Agni,

        What happened? Is this what you had in your heart all these days? Was I loving a mere facade of a woman? Where is the girl who would drop her books at the sound of the college bell? Where is the girl who would always take the corner table at the canteen? Why has she changed so much? Why has she changed?

        I am not a beggar. Sympathy is like respect, it should be earned, not asked for. I am shocked that you are speaking such words. I agree that you are in a much worse condition than me, but that doesn't mean that you'll bawl off on me for neglecting you. Who is asking for sympathy now? As far as my poems are concerned, I didn't care for your opinions, honestly. Both of us are infidels at best.

       I thought that partners should be compromising in their love life. If my advises are orders to you, then I shall stop writing letters from now. We can meet after the war, starting anew. I don't know if you'll ingest this in the form of an advise or an order, but please quit from your brother's corps. Your family can be avenged peacefully, we'll avenge together. There's no need to kill and die. Reply me if you have quit, if not, then I'll live the rest of my life thinking that Agnieszka Nowakowski, the only love of my life has died and you don't need to reply to this letter.

Anton.

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