"The warrior who returned from the distant lands is your real father", her mothers words ringing in her ears

"Why, for many so years, have I not seen him. How could the war take him away from all our love", wondered the little heart. "And why, is his face so strangely featured", she couldnt figure out what was different.

The tired warrior bent on his knee and hugged his child. Scarred by the ravaging wars for years, he wore a Mask. A mask he built for himself, which blended into his face so well that one could never say where the mask begins and ends. After years of wearing the mask, the mask blended into the face so well, that he himself was not sure where it ends!!

The little tender fingers played across the face/mask, the strange feeling leaving her unfulfilled. And then she looked into those eyes. Those eyes, so stern, so devoid of emotion, yet so deep and loving. They were showing some deep emotions and yet masking them. How much of the mask was it on the eyes.And what were the eyes masking behind?

The little one tugged along her new found identity. Days passed into months and the two bonded like they belonged. Not a typical relaitionship of father-child, but yet an undeniably deep one. The girl played with her father everyday and everyday she could see the mask peeling off little by little. And every night the warrior reworked his mask.

Days turned into weeks and spring came blossoming her days with joy and beauty. Happiness turned habit and love the staple diet.

"It was not meant to be forever. I need to go", one morning the warrior spoke with a smile on his mask, and the little one looked up from his lap. "In the far off lands, I have built a beautiful home and there I have a son so brave. He is the one who will be me. You, are a girl, my dear child, and we are so different in our ways". He continued hurriedly without taking a pause and with a practised tone, "I cannot connect with you. I am no more a peasant that I started out as and cant stay back. I wish you well". The warrior rose up hastily and cringing at the same time. He could not look his child in the eye. The girl was still searching his eyes. They still are hiding something. Or are they just part of the mask!

"I HATE you, I hate you, you........", the child's distant wails grew thinner. The warrior slowly walked away towards the distant lands with a firm stride, never turning back - holding his hand to his masked face, silently holding his secrets of pain or joy under his quivering breath! What have the wars and the distant lands done to the warrior!! "Wherever he is headed, he wont need the mask", hoped the child with dichotomous feelings. That is, if he knew how to take it off and if he knew where it ended!!