Surviving the War Within: John and Baela's Tale

The bar was silent and still.The smell of whiskey was reminiscent of a battlefield.It was the same smell that John Worthington had grown so used to during the times he served as a pilot during The First World War. Everywhere he looked, he only saw sorrow and the pain of his lost comrades, the people who'd shared in this same experience and have since each passed away due to old age or the ravages of war.

Curtains of smoke wafted through the air accompanying the brave thoughts he had of being a strong, courageous pilot in a harsh and dangerous atmosphere. He had been one of the best, but yet now, he was a shell of his former self, living an existence as an alcoholic, with his veteran's pension wasted away in pubs and instead of a place of rest and retirement, going home to a bottle of cheap whiskey.

His glass of whiskey was a welcome reminder. He remembered the days on the planes, the smell of the air and how it filled him with the courage to complete his mission, the taste of the whiskey given to them on the days off and the camaraderie of his friends. But with each sip, the solemnness of the people who had died in the bombardment of Dresden or been taken from him by age returned to cloud his mind. He had come to realize his PTSD prevented him from ever being able to have a family or move on from this moment.

It was during one of these late nights John met an unexpected source of solace - an Indian princess, a widow whose uncle had exiled her to London named Baela. She had been a stranger in an strange land and yet, her eyes were filled with as much pain as his. In his moments of compassion, John and Baela opened up to each other, finding a connection beyond language that filled their heart and souls. Lit by a sad understanding, it was through in this moment joint with her, he found his purpose anew.

John's appreciation and hidden friendship with Baela were a welcome change in his life. He started to build up a meaningful feeling between the two and found a companion he had been longing for after his days in the military. Days and weeks passed while they talked and shared stories over late night cups of coffee in the bar, each telling tales of the past and of their backgrounds.

John found out that Baela had been part of a small elite family of ias who had ruled an Indian kingdom-state for generations. He unearthed within her that she had a beautiful singing voice; when Baela realised John surrounded could recite long plots of poetry and rewrite ancient religious texts, a bond began to be passed between them.

In the spaces between conversations and stories, the two started to understand each other's sorrow and even occasional moments of joy. John’s heart softened as he saw in her beauty of tradition and found in her love as well as a bittersweet truth - that although they had found each other by chance, they were both products of a larger, more volatile world.

John's burgeoning relationship with Baela had caused him to feel more alive and connected to the world than he had since combat. But courage and sadness wreaked havoc on the beautiful life he had been building up. Amongst the cruel conditions and cultures of those days, Baela was one to be confined within her exile in London. With any interaction, she would be imprisoned or killed if it was ever discovered they knew each other.

Old secrets resurfaced in the quiet couple's conversations. John had been thinking about her family members and home in India, where there had been a powerful regime for centuries that was now on the verge of being torn apart. Word of royal unrest came to light and everything John knew changed.

These revelation made one decisive action become a priority – getting Baela back to India and freeing her from her condemned world. John now had a true purpose, using his skills as a pilot to bring her back home, at any cost.

Trusting John's skills of the skies, the couple readied to flee the country on John's secrets plane he had hidden, gathered via his materials and scraps found all around the city. The clouds were calling, the seas were gentle, but night came and the plane took to full speed as they set off towards India and the turmoil that awaited them.

The skies opened up to them with their journey and they flew through, hearts pounding, dreams embracing, music and conversation filling the plane cabin they were meant to be trapped in due to the ancient practices of society.

Yet, the turbulence seemed to reach the ground rather than the aircraft, as a rumbling of war and the press of time pushed against them soon after takeoff. As the plane zipped through the night, a storm of violence and horror encircled the plane, and destruction ensued down below as the rebellion of a part of the kingdom began.

Baela, in her tears spoke towards the night sky, held by the realization of all being lost and the only hope, being in the darkness, that they may not survive the journey and landing still. John, realizing the cost of his rehabilitation was now on the brink of high treason and that life was against them both with no choice left to make but to proceed. Throughout, his strong arms and heart found Baela a constant source of strength throughout their escape and the never-ending tears and terror shoved their way.

Finally, breaking through the storm, the plane descended through the relentless clouds, over the regional state, the very place Baela now felt at home and comforted by the knowledge that, if one chooses not to succumb to hatred, men and women from different corners of the world can still attain a return of what was once lost.

Even if only for a moment, newfound friendship is still possible in these trying times. John released the plane, executing a precise and perfect landing. They were both embraced with mixed emotions of risk, commitment and joy as the soldiers took them both in their custody with all the other exiles who were finally released to the proud place they eventually came to call home.