My Heart! My fellow Traveler!

After so many gloomy days, finally sunshine is here! And this turns the ordinary day into an extra-ordinary one. Everyone has suddenly got smiles on the face, and this pleasant weather has turned everyone into pleasant person. What a difference sunshine can make! I never realized this ever before. Being from a warm country, sunshine has always been quite an ordinary thing for me until recently, when I came to London, and realized that how precious gift of nature it is! And the long experience of the gloomy days taught me to appreciate the gifts of nature. Little gifts like sunshine!
A number of pigeons are moving around freely, and this makes me wonder if we the human beings have the same sense of freedom? How valiantly these pigeons are wandering in a crowd of humans. Can a human being be that confident in a crowd of any other species? Whatever! But this view is amazing! A phenomenal depiction of audacity of nature.
I am sitting on the stairs in front of the National Gallery. Right in front of me is Nelson’s Column with the lions at the base. I can see the Big Ben Tower behind that; though it is far away, but it is visible from this point. On my right side is the Cock on the Fourth Plinth. And amongst the crowd of humans and flocks of pigeons, I am sitting here with my cappuccino and diary. People might wonder, what a girl is writing in a notebook, in the midst of this crowded open space. But never mind, no one seems to notice my presence here.
At this crowded place everyone seems to enjoy the sunshine around me. But there is a silence in my heart, and there is a voice inside me which makes me wonder why do we build memorials of warriors? Why do we always have to make monuments in memory of war heroes? Everywhere in the world, people who died fighting are more popular, than those who died suffering. Probably, because we want to teach our children about our glorious history. Perhaps, because we love to tell the tales of our bravery and valor. But what we don’t realize is that every story of war is also a story of tyranny, suffering, and oppression. It is also a story of violence. I don’t know why, but it seems that this is in the very nature of humankind, the urge to prove ourselves as the best. We preserve the symbols of wars and we celebrate the days in memory of those who suffered, those who became victims of this tyranny. But what we don’t have is the courage to admit that in reality, our sunshine is a result of darkness created somewhere else.