I see stars above

I remember the moment well. We were to set off at 11pm, our faces camoflagued (the great morale depressor), equipment on, reluctant bodies squatting by the side of the dirt track. The order to move would come next, then our tired bodies would nudge. This was the moment we had been dreading and absolutely detested: the start of zombie walking through the night till daylight, trudging through inhospitable terrain and fending off invisible undergrowth that obstructs and frustrates. It's an all too familiar process.

For now though, we had a rare few hours to rest. The sweltering heat during the day had finally given way to a more humane temperature under the cover of darkness. We were spread out on the grass patch in front of a disused block meant for troops training. Now and then pockets of chatter and laughter could be heard from the area. Most people, however, were just resting and trying to catch a few winks of sleep.

Like the others, I was lying on the grass and trying to catch some sleep. But no matter how I shut my mind or forced my eyes closed, sleep simply eluded me. I look up from my position once, and all I saw was a vast blue sky, illuminated by a galaxy of stars. I felt a little excited: when was the last time I was lying down and seeing a sky filled with stars?

Even though I was not in an enviable situation now, it was good to be able to see beauty, to see the wonders of nature. There were so many stars in the sky, and the ignorant me was wondering just how many stars could there be up there. Swept up in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, I have long not seen stars and nearly forgotten the joy of admiring them. This was a moment I knew I would remember.

As I continued staring into the vast space above me, I noticed one bright spot that was slowly but surely moving across the sky. A plane, I thought. Instantly, like how a television show or movie could transport one scene to another, I imagined myself seated on a plane, taking a window seat, staring down from miles and miles above ground. I recalled the times when I took the plane in the past year, and at that moment I yearned to be flying again. If only I could change position there and then, seated on the plane heading to a foreign destination, instead of lying on a grass patch waiting for a dreadful journey.

I was feeling wistful, and quite happy at that. The next time I am on the plane, I shall again recall that moment, staring out of the window and looking far below while doing so. I shall imagine that someone is lying on the grass far below, looking up at the tiny plane that is creeping across the black sky.