Peter's Chronicle..

Peter walked through Narnia in midst of all the preparations with a sense of nostalgia. Each year they would celebrate Aslan’s victory over the White Witch on the stone table. But somehow this year, he felt a little detached. As he wandered through the forest aimlessly, he tried to rationalize his sense of detachment.

Maybe it was because Edmund and Lucy are in-charge of this year’s celebrations. Not being involved with the preparations definitely meant that he had not given the occasion much thought prior to this. But this wasn’t the first year that he had entrusted the feast to someone else. He remembered clearly the year the Mr and Mrs Beaver were in charge, he felt a tingle of excitement even when shelling the nuts.

Maybe Susan’s absence in Narnia is felt more strongly during festivities. There was a time when the pain was more acute, he distinctly remembers. Over the years he got accustomed to her absence, and this year, he did not even send her the invitation knowing that she would miss it any way.

Maybe it is not detachment but fatigue. He had been looking forward to this weekend because Edmund and Lucy were in charge. After a long week fighting battles in the world beyond the lamp post, he could retreat to Narnia this weekend to rest. He did not have to worry about managing the affairs of the kingdom- at least not this week. All the riding back and forth had tired him out completely, age was really catching up on him.

Or maybe it is because Aslan had been away for far too long, and he had forgotten what it feels like to be around the great Lion. But deep in his gut he knew this was not true.
Lucy never once lost the spark in her eye, all these years when thinking about Aslan. And Edmund seemed to be growing out of his embarrassment of being a Turkish delight glutton very nicely, as he learnt more and more about the secrets of the kingdom. The King Lion was around them as often as He was around him… the variable was not Aslan.

Aslan. Aslan, the King of Narnia who appeared wherever and whenever He wishes. Aslan, whose whereabouts is never known and his paths never to be traced. Peter traced the steps of his last walk with the Lion on the golden shore. Reaching the waters, Peter stared into the horizon. He wondered if his Friend would be at the celebrations this year.