Reason for Worry: A Warrior's Race

It’s 9 o'clock in the morning and you’re still grumpy about Lily seeming so distant last night. Time seems to expand infinitely when you’re home and waiting for the love of your life to cuddle you while you discuss the atrocity that ‘University education’ is.

You’ve known Lily for twelve years now. You know how she can make you feel like a breeze, enchanting every aspect of your life as she fills you with purpose. She was hurt last night, yet you questioned her motives for not coddling your tantrums. Yes, it is unlike Lily to argue with you and not let you win. Can you let it go? 

You’re hurt & confused and it’s understandable. You had a hard day yesterday, grading examination papers on the politics of socialist communes, averting critique from the Dean. It’s been a hard year for you. Sometimes you tend to forget that the love of your life, your partner, has her own life too. She’s already left for work, so it’s time that you stop scrolling through random pages on your browser. Start working. Checking your email may seem like a nightmare when your inbox is full of requests for deadline extensions. Stop whining and just get to them. 

You reply to three emails, graciously granting them a day’s extension, already feeling like you’re about to vomit from how regularly you’re taken for a ride. You know that these kids are just high off last night’s party but it’s your job to avoid being considered a prude or worse, a lunatic. Pull yourself together. Get yourself a coffee before you start another monotonous day of grading views that are brazen by the “youthful liberty the Earth deserves”. 

You try to centre yourself but all you can think about is Lily. Is Lily ok? Has someone at the station said something to her? Is she in danger?

Your mouse seems to have a mind of its own as its cursor starts moving towards Lily’s inbox. Your mouse has done a deed you are not comfortable with at all. Something is weird though. You realise that the ‘Archive’ folder now says, “Archive (1)”. Lily hates emails. She either deletes them or leaves them unread unless they’re important. Archiving? That’s new. 

No. No. No. No. Your heart is in your mouth as you’re forced to stop in your tracks. Not him, not again. Not after all these years.

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To: lily.v@kewasapd.gov / 22nd November 2035

Lily,

I write to you knowing that there’s a chance you wouldn’t be happy to hear from me. It’s been seventeen years since we decided, for the last time, that it be best we stop speaking. I am compelled to do this because of circumstances I frankly do not understand. Things are very different now. I hope you would be patient with this letter.

When things got terrible ten years ago, I decided to join a faction of our security forces. This may come as a surprise to you but despite my luxury, success and accolades, something inside me broke. I knew it was time to put my best foot forward. They’ve been the best ten years of my life. 

I climbed up the ranks rather quickly, as did seven others who signed up with the same intentions as I did. Three years into our service, we were all in-charge of advising certain regiments, covering eight crucial zones that required a decisive, well-planned strategy. The world had seen bloodshed that was borne from a complex web of transactions. While televised and shared on the then InstantGram, the gravity of the atrocities remains unknown to civilians. The eight of us were well-informed of the crude realities that led to the events at the time and the events to follow. With our diverse backgrounds, we found ingenious ways to combat the terror that beheld us. We developed a bond that is my greatest treasure, although Ezra believes otherwise. 

Together, we forged an ethic that grew to domineer over the minds of our men. I never once felt lonely or lost. I felt like I had finally found a family that believed in the same principles as I did and would fight valiantly to uphold them. We spent every minute trying to realign the psyche that bred comfortable transgressions, and we did so successfully. 

I write to you today to talk about Ezra. Ezra was a strange man, especially so on our first meeting in 2025. I still remember the way he entered the room where we were waiting to be measured-up by our in-house tailor. As newly-appointed officers, we sat in absolute silence, curiously observing one another. Ezra jostled in with the kind of sling bag you used to carry and a smile on his face. The boy announcing our names suddenly froze, looking perplexed, as he tried to pronounce the name on his sheet. “Ez… Ez…” – he stuttered for a whole ten seconds. Ezra leapt in saying, “'Ez-rah', it's so easy!”, as he pranced to our amused tailor. No one let out a laugh, but I could tell that most of them were snickering on the inside. I was too. After Ezra’s measurements had been taken, the boy began to stutter again. This time, it was more out of the shock that Ezra had given him. I quietly stood up and moved to the front before there was room for another awkward moment. 

Sixteen days later, our uniforms came in. When I received a uniform with my name, meant for a man 30 pounds lighter than me, I let myself smile just a little. Looking at Ezra across the room struggling to understand why his uniform was meant for someone so much larger than him was quite entertaining. He slipped on his buttoned-up shirt with ease and yelped, “Wow, why do they even bother taking our measurements if they do what they want anyway!” I walked up to him and gave him my uniform. “We’ll find someone who can switch our names on these by the end of the week hopefully.”, I said. He held up the shirt I gave him and was startled when he read my name on the label. It took him a minute to piece it together but once he did, he let out a roar of a laugh and bumped his fist on my shoulder. Startling the whole room again, this time everyone let out a laugh that lasted till the Chief Officer walked in. We’ve been brothers since.

Ezra was one of the Eight, and a man I grew to revere. Despite his flamboyant and untimely interjections, he had the purest heart I had grown to know. He would force me into deep discussions about the most irrelevant emotions, drawing meaning in everything. His queries were pointed, despite having no tangible reason to have triggered such thought. While they were often annoying or absurd, they added much-needed amusement to our harsh days. More importantly, I think they lightened the crude strategies he came up with – perhaps balancing something within him that was beyond our comprehension. He was an acute strategist - the best I’d known. Ezra did ask his riddle-bed questions to others too but somehow, I was his greatest victim. Perhaps he derived greater joy from cornering me than the others who would say things just to sate him in the moment or find ways to distract him from his thoughts – behaviour beyond my capacity. These ten years have indeed been difficult with this man by my side but I cannot imagine having gone through them without him. He died yesterday. He was poisoned by an insurgent who had been operating as a spy within our force. We identified him a little too late.

Lily, I write to you today because Ezra forced me to. Ezra told me that I had shut a part of myself that was crucial to my being, among other things. If there is anybody I trusted in this world, it was Ezra. He didn’t speak for any other purpose than to enlighten. Ordinarily, I would be closed to such unsolicited opinions in the outside world but here, every piece of information is vital. Nobody has the time or energy to fabricate truths within the troops. We are all one and, at every occasion, Ezra spoke only to ensure we moved as one. He showed me that we can all, despite our differences, find common ground if we search within. This time has taught me a different facet to human existence and its responsibility. 

I don’t have much more to say. Ezra did say that if I just told you what I had experienced, I would do my part. 

With regret and hope,

Sincerely,

Ezekiel

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What does he want? Why is he back? Why did she archive it? Is she going to respond to him?

Is Lily going to leave you for the only man she’s ever loved?