Day 9: Cold, Concrete Poetry, Epistrophe/Anaphora
You made me feel I am the king of your world,
You made me feel that I am the only one,
But walking away without saying a word,
You made me feel that I was no fun.
Your cold cold heart doesn’t seem to melt,
Your cold heart can’t see that I am broken,
So cold as if it’s turned into stone,
And you threw that stone and left me shaken.
I can’t feel any thing without you,
I can’t feel the the happiness or pain,
People see me and can’ t seem to understand what’s wrong,
Some even say that I am insane.
Maybe these words don’t mean anything to you,
Maybe you’d never even see what I wrote,
Though forever alone, but I promise that with a heap of such letters,
I’ll make my way to paradise on a paper boat.
edited with the help of- Priyanka Chandak
It was almost the time for harvest in Bhogpur village. Retired Subedar Purshottam was sitting with his Hukkah in the porch of his old house. With each puff of smoke from his pot, he was taking away a second off his life. He didn’t even care about his life anymore because he had no reason to. He had seen enough of it. Enough of his kids who didn’t want to take care of him anymore; who couldn’t even have a small corner in their big bungalows in the city for him. Enough of this brutal world where money is all people run after. He often used to sit and think about the time he was in army and what a gallant life he had there. The hero’s welcome he used to get when he used to come back home from the border. He gave 40 years of his seven decades life to that profession. He liked nothing more than his life in the army. But he always felt that whatever he did there was of no importance to the ‘bloody civilians’. The villagers or any other person just can never understand what sacrifices that a soldier makes for his country. Sure he became grumpy because of all this, because he always felt that he deserved more than what he received, at least a little respect and care from his own kin. But with time he had realized the ugly truth- the road to one’s end is meant to be walked alone. The only soul he cared for his entire life passed away last winter. But the more sad part was that no one from his family showed up for the cremation. Lakshmi was like an integral part of his life. Though he was no different in behavior to her, but she knew all his traits. She was the only one who could bring a little calm to the turmoil inside him. But with her gone, he lost his soul and was now just waiting on his old coir to leave this planet for good.
He had a little farm which he had to look after himself. There weren’t many folks around as almost everyone had shifted to the city, so he had to do almost everything by himself. After a long and rough season the paddy was finally up, smiling bright at the sun. In a week or two, the harvest was due. Sometimes Purshottam used to think that how weird this life was- first we sow and grow something till it becomes fully grown and then we cut it down just like that. He could see the similarity of this peculiar lifestyle with his own- growing into something useful and when he was no good for anyone, he was cut off from this world. Now he could see that why this planet is called as the Land of Mortals. With another puff he took a little sigh. Just then he heard a little rattling sound coming from his fields. He thought the rabbits were back again, so he threw a stone from the pile he had kept beside his chair. But to his surprise it didn’t stop the sound. So he got up to take a better look at the unwanted guest. All he could guess was that it was larger than a rabbit but smaller than an Elephant. It had some reddish hue. Purshottam could hardly see what it really was with his naked eyes. So he went inside to get his spectacles and along with that he brought a long bamboo stick as well. Cutting through the paddy carefully he charged towards the place from where that sound was coming. As he drew closer, he saw a little disturbance in the field. That little creature in the field got a little sense of the incoming human with a long pointed weapon attached to one of the limbs. It got the feeling that its trespassing scheme has been compromised, so it started taking careful steps towards the opposite side of Purshottam’s advances. It moved and moved at similar pace at which Purshottam was cruising in. Few minutes later when it saw Purshottam coming closer to itself, it started running and soon it was out in the open- a calf with reddish hue.
It was more like a fully grown up cow but smaller, yet big enough that it couldn’t be called as a calf. It was more like in its adolescent age. Purshottam was really furious to see that a part of his hard work was devoured by this little red beast. So he ran right towards it, in full rage, to bring an end to it’s life. But the calf wasn’t new to these chases, it kept its safe distance all the time. As soon as Purshottam took a leap, the calf increased it’s own pace. Whenever Purshottam took a little time for taking breath, the calf used to stop and eat the small grass-lings on the ground as if it were mocking at him. It made this chase look like a game. Purshottam after gaining some energy again started shooing the calf away from his fields as far as he could. He knew that in no way he could catch it in this lifetime. It was growing pretty dark outside and dusk was about to take a turn into night. Purshottam thinking that he had shooed the calf far enough, threw some stones at it to make it go little further. And when it was far away from his sight, he retreated back towards his old hut.
It was really hard for a person of his age to do something like that. He wasn’t young enough to do such chases. He was really tired of all the chase he had done that day. But none of the few ones left in the village were going to help him, so it was all his work to do. He reached back to his old house and sat on the old charpoy. He was really tired and didn’t have any strength to prepare a meal for himself. So he ate a few guavas that he had plucked from the tree in his backyard. Few of them were enough to fill his flaccid tummy. And few drops of water from the pitcher at the end finished the dinner part of his day. Turning off the switch of the bulb, he then lay down on the charpoy to call the night off. Nothing on Earth was so soothing than taking rest upon the ropes of that charpoy.
He could still recall the day when he had bought that charpoy in Dilli for 10Rs and how happy his wife and kids were to see him bring that home. He could still recall that day very distinctly. For few days kids just used to jump on it’s little strings and Lakshmi used to shout at that them not to make the strings loose. A tear dropped from his eyes while he thought about it. He would give up everything to see that moment again; but alas, this life doesn’t work that way! Soon those tears collectively formed a wall in front of his eyes. He cleared them of with his gamcha and closed the lids.
Next morning Purshottam woke up later than his normal routine. He had a really good sleep after a long long time. But waking up this late was against his defense time norms. He could see himself getting old. He could feel the change in himself. Nevertheless he got up and did what he used to do everyday. He took a bath, washed his dirty clothes, prepared few chapatis and sabzi which would last enough for the lunch. Everyday he used to make enough for himself to last till lunch. Then he cleaned up his varandah and watered the plants. Everyday the Tulsi tree was the first one he used to serve; it was planted by Lakshmi when she first came to his house after their wedding. Though everyday she used to water it through the holy pitcher of their little temple while chanting mantras… but Purshottam wasn’t such a religious man. He was more of an atheist or rather agnostic, yet in Lakshmi’s presence he never questioned her faith and would politely accompany her in all her religious tasks. But with her being gone now, he would deliberately make efforts to annoy God in the hope that it might cut his life short. Yet, at times he would ponder, that maybe, letting him live was the greatest punishment for him. This fear often provoked him to water the Tulsi plant daily. And after all the other daily chores, Purshottam again filled his Hukkah with new burning coal and then he sat on his coir to gaurd the fields. And with a long sigh he took the first puff of the day.
He had hardly taken few patches of the tobacco when he heard a familiar rustle again from a corner of his paddy field. Looking closely he saw a reddish hue again- the calf was back. Clenching his wrists in rage he got up from his chair and grabbed the bamboo. He started the day’s campaign with large pebbles. The first one he threw hit the calf just at the center of its tummy. The calf didn’t see that coming and with little vibration of surprise in it’s red skin, it started running towards the woods. Purshottam felt little joy with his aimed shot hitting it’s target. He took another aim, throwing the pebble with as much power as he could. Though this time the calf had it’s laugh, the pebble passed between it’s hind legs. This time calf started running towards the upper steep path of the mountain valley. It was pretty young so it was not difficult for it to climb it. Whereas Purshottam on other hand was having a hard time in chasing the calf. It was becoming really hard for him to breath. He was taking frequent stops now. But enough was enough as Purshottam had promised to himself that he would bring an end to this chase today. He started taking smaller breaths. That way he gained some energy and he finally stood up. The calf was still there at top, peeking at him like as if playing hide and seek.
Purshottam started taking small small steps towards it. The calf seeing him advancing, started running again. Few moments later they both reached the top. It was plain there above though covered with Pine trees. Purshottam knew that he was very near to the Thano village. He thought that if he is able to make this calf go towards that village, maybe then it won’t come back again as there were greener fields to feed upon or maybe any villager will end up catching it. So Purshottam kept on trailing the calf as far as he could. After sometime he saw some white fences. He knew it was someone’s ranch or a farm. Purshottam threw few stones at it and made it run as far as he could. The calf passed two broad fields and after few minutes it was really hard to spot it. Purshottam was assured that finally it was the end of his chase. So he headed back to his house. It was a long way back; he took the shortest path he could. On returning back to his house, he drank whole pitcher of water first and then sat on his chair to take some rest. Rest of his long day passed in throwing stones at parrots and rabbits. He ate the chapaties with sabzi which he had prepared for lunch. With a day long chase he didn’t get time to eat them in afternoon. And drinking a full pitcher of water his another day ended. Like everyday he then lay down in his charpoy, remembering another old instance from his past and just like that he slept.
It was a new day and he wanted nothing new like the past two days to occur again. But he was pretty much sure that the calf wasn’t coming back again. Again like everyday he did what he used to do in his routine and finally sat down in his chair to keep a watch over his near to be harvested crop. It was a calm sunny day and not much of rodents or birds were there to make him move his muscle. Just like that a thought came to his mind that what might would have happened to that calf? What would it be doing right now? Was it caught by a villager or is it still feeding someone else’s field? And many other thoughts rolled in his curious mind. Almost whole day passed and he saw no sign of any rabbit or bird or a calf. He just sat there wondering what might would had happened to it. A sudden urge grew inside him to see that calf again. After a long long time he had been busy with something off his daily boring routine. He missed the red beast. For him the calf became like a little companion- a known acquaintance. Chasing it was something of a meaning to him now, it gave him a new reason to live. But alas, he drove it away! That little thought made him sad. He broke his only rope of hope.
He just stared at that little corner if it has come back. As dusk grew up on the day’s end, his watch also came close to an end. Feeling grim about his loss, Purshottam got up and headed back towards his hut to prepare something to eat. Inside his hut he made a dough out of the flour. He lit the chullah and put the tawa over the scintillating flames. He saw the tawa getting heated up. He took a piece of dough and made it like a little dumpling. Then he rolled it plane with a belan and then took it in between his hands to put it over the tawa. Just when he was about to do that, he heard an old familiar rustle coming from his paddy field through his window. A little smile grew in his face and with a breath of satisfaction he put the chapati over the tawa.
Quite often while traveling from one place to another interesting things happen with you. Well this article is not about that interesting part but rather just explaining what can actually happen around you when you travel.
So here I was going back home after 3 months. My exams had finished just two weeks back. Okay cutting all the crap about why I was still in Delhi for two more weeks… just come to the part where I prepared my bag and all and was about to leave. I got about millions of calls from my parents back at home…telling me same thing again and again that what to do and what not to(you all know how parents are). So moving on… It was 9PM and pretty cool outside as it rained that day. I had chosen to go at night coz it was summer time and same day in afternoon I heard that 2300 people had died by now due to heat wave in India. So naturally as I wanted to live more in this awesome world… I thought to leave at night…coz I knew my fluffy body won’t survive the heat outside.
So I left at 9 and reached Kashmere Gate by 10.30. Now one thing that always bothers me is this name. It is spelled as Kashmere Gate…though we all know it is Kashmiri! Right? Even my spell checker in my PC right now is indicating that it is wrong and has marking it red. I guess Kashimiri people were highly offended by that so they asked to change it…well after all everyone want there own privacy… Right?
So moving on… I came out the metro and tried to find a normal bus. Well to be honest, with my attire and all many Volvo guys get excited to see me every time like hey- “that’s our Chicken to devour tonight”. Well I feel so good about the honor they give me…but it feels really sad too coz I have to deny them all. I can’t afford 600 bucks to reach Haridwar you see. In fact with 600 Rs I could go back and forth and come back again. Well so finally after 10 or 15 minutes of searching I found a normal bus- with “Dulari” written on the top. Well looking at that bus I could bet that it wasn’t treated as per her name. So anyways, as I entered into Dulari… everyone started staring at me. Well here’s a thing, it’s like a ritual in normal buses that as soon as someone new enters…everyone wanna have a look that how this new one looks like and where will this one sit. Well truth is…in case of men, most young guys are waiting for a beautiful lady to enter…which is actually very rare to happen…but come on…we are guys…we never loose hope. And I have no idea how young girl’s think in this case…coz trust me I’ve rarely seen any girl traveling alone in a normal bus. They feel rather more safe in the Volvo.
The rest of the passengers just try to check who is the newcomer who’s gonna sit beside them…coz you know what…it is kinda important to know that. Many a times the person turns out to be a trickster…one who befriends you and all and then making you smell something…gets you unconscious and rest you can imagine what he does. Hey don’t imagine any sexual thing…I mean he takes your stuff and all… I am pretty sure thieves in India are that much sincere that they focus in just their work. You know what… here’s a thought, I think that there should be reservation for thieves as well…after all they could be such great workers. Right? Well when government can give reservation to almost anyone then what’s wrong with thieves? Okay jokes apart. Moving on….
So I took a seat beside a quite old looking man. He was a typical Garhwali. I could easily tell that by just one glimpse at him. It was a three seater and he was the only one sitting on it…obviously covering the window. Here’s a fun fact, no matter how old we get we all want the window seat. Just accept that this craving for window seat never goes away in anyone. No matter in what kinda vehicle you are and what your age is…everyone wants window seat. So anyways… I searched whole bus for a window seat(lol…well I am no different) and when I found that all are already taken so I went to that available three seater. I had headphones on my ears…so just lowering lil voice I asked- “are these seats taken?” He said something without looking towards me which I was unable to hear at first so I asked him again. Now this time he had a good look at me and trust me when I say this- the only thing which that man would had thought was good in me would be my “Wildcraft” bag that I was carrying. His face was like as if he was literally disgusted to see me. Well call it generation gap or what but this is actually a fact that middle aged people or old one’s from my state UK(sounds better than Uttarakhand right) are so so disgusted to see anyone walking with headphones on. And I’ve no idea why are they all like that. For example my father himself is so bugged with these little innovative devices that he rather prefers calling them “Feeders” instead of headphones, coz according to him these just feed music inside our ears. Well he is right to very extent…but why does he hate them, that I’ve no idea. I never asked him why…coz I seriously don’t wanna have long heated discussion with him about this.
So where were we…Yeah…so after telling me clearly by shaking his head pretty well in negation that- “khaali hai beta…baith jao!”, I took the other corner. So I finally got a good seat. Now I had to make sure that this man was safe…coz you know, my parents had told me very precisely to keep a check on that. Well here’s the thing- you can’t just start taking interview of any stranger sitting beside you…right? Well it would be so great if someone could explain this to everyone’s parents. So the thing is…one has to judge it just by observing the man’s face. Well my guy was already pissed off by me…and all the time his face was towards his beloved window…so I thought- okay..he doesn’t seems like a guy who would abduct me…and so I was happily settled. So as a confirmation call… I called home and told that their consignment is safe and will reach to them by morning…please be ready to receive it or it might get stolen.
So after all this I just had to wait to reach my destination…which was about 7 hrs away. So I just laid down with Ed Sheeran feeding his amazing lyrics inside my ears through the “feeders”. Well bus had just started when the guy on the other side, in the two seater, shook my hand. I was kinda surprised. Well anyone would…after all that’s not something that happens every time that I travel.
So I asked with a surprised look- Yes?
He said- can you sit here with me?
And I was like- Han? Why?
Then in quick moment I thought about it that why would he be asking me to do that? Well the conclusion I came into was that he too was pretty scared of those thieves and all and wanted someone safe as a seat partner. Well he had a HTC M8 with him, and just by that I made the decision that he seems to be safe and also the man beside me was pissed off by me anyway….so I went in the two seater.
Well it was pretty alright to sit with him till things started to get bit odd. Just few seconds later he started asking that where I was heading to? Umm I said okay this one is one of those who likes to talk….so I told him Haridwar. In response I asked same and be replied same. Then he took out a handkerchief…a pretty big one. Well I was bit scared by that…many thoughts started coming to my mind in a flash-
Is he a trickster? And how would he make me unconscious now? What way will he choose? Will he offer me a poisoned Apple? But then I thought- ‘Apple season is already over’…and even in market if there is Apple available…it would be pretty expensive…why would he waste his money in Apples when he could do pretty well with just a biscuit! But I had made sure in my mind that no matter what biscuit he offers me… I would strictly say NO to that(though I knew I would never say no to OREOs…well who can say no to Oreos right?).
Well after thinking a lot about this and listening to 8 more tracks which I had no idea were still playing on my mobile… I was kinda sad that this guy did nothing. Well after all I was prepared to say NO to his biscuits.
So anyways my journey continued. I was strictly asked by my elder brother not to take nap. He said that I was alone and it can be risky. Well you know what…even though if I had tried to sleep… I wouldn’t have succeeded. And you know why? Coz a stupid idiot was playing a stupid bollywood track somewhere around me. And though I am not that fond of raunchy new bollywood songs…but I knew quite a few good ones…. but trust me, this guy was playing something that I had no idea about. This always happens. Every freaking time when you travel anywhere…there is always someone who is playing an unknown song on his mobile which has speakers like we have in parties. And that’s not all…here’s an interesting fact…every time in such cases when there is a guy playing an unknown song…there have to be another one who plays his own song on his own mobile…and that too in even louder tone. It becomes like a mobile song competition. What actually was more torturing for me was that the guy who was giving this other guy competition was none other than my seat-mate. And guess what…he wasn’t using his M8 for this…he had pulled out a Chinese set…as a secret weapon from somewhere…as if he had brought this just for this case only. And thus…all my dreams about dreaming Ema Watson on my way back to home got shattered by this. Well I guess that date will never happen again…thanks those two a-holes.
Well after a while when they both felt little sleepy…there was a bit silence for sometime. Well I thought lets give Avril Lavigne a chance to date me in my dream…maybe it could lead into something. So I closed my eyes again with her song on… I tried to set up the mood. After few beautiful seconds, just when in her song she said- Hey Hey Hey, I wanna be your girlfriend… I started hearing Hanuman Chalisa! Well to be honest I am a big fan of our own beloved superhero and his stories but when you’re on a dreamy date with Avril Lavigne…everything else seems to be useless. Well guess what…it was my seat-mate’s ringtone. He picked it up and it turned out to be his mother.
Well here’s a quick question…I know how mothers are and how much they care about their children but whose mother in this world gets up at night at 3AM to check up on her kid? Well everyone’s mother is like that…I was just kidding…but the point is…just focus here…the point is that my this date got screwed as well.
So after 30 minutes of “yeah maa I ate on time”…”yeah I am sitting at right place” and all other such stuff he finally stopped talking. By then we had reached Roorkee.
It was about 3:30 in the morning and it was pretty cold and dark outside. The bus had taken a halt in the bus stop of Roorkee…coz it was like a mandatory stop for it. And just when I thought this night can’t go worse a vendor entered the bus. I was pretty surprised to see a vendor at this time of the day…or rather call it night. He entered and started speaking in the best way he can…like actors do in TV advertisements. He was selling an important device actually…no I am not kidding…he was selling mobile chargers which run from Solar power. It was like a powerbank. And guess what…it had almost all kinds of ports…from Nokia’s old ones to new…from Samsung to HTC. Well I thought of having little fun…so I took my Apple iPod out(well little bragging is no harm right…not just iPod…but Apple iPod). So I asked him that can you charge this? Well guess what…he didn’t have any port like that. I am sure from inside he was feeling bit embarrassed…after all I had very unique device…haha. So with that hiatus our vehicle finally left Roorkee.
Well rest of my journey till Haridwar was pretty normal or rather say boring….like those Indian daily soaps in which a bahu’s “Nahiii” has to be shown thrice to make the show 30 min long.
So by 4:15 almost I reached Haridwar. It was pretty unexpected as normally I reach by 5 or 5:30. Well this bus was going to Rishikesh, so I had to get out of this one and take another one towards Dehradun which would take me to my destination – Bhaniyawala.
So almost half an hour passed and no sign of any bus towards Dehradun. Well in fact I actually found one going to Doon. Well when I entered it…I gave him 50₹ note… coz normally it takes about less than 50₹ to reach to my destination- Bhaniyawala. Well after a nice laugh and good one minute argument I found out that I had entered into a Hi-Tech AC bus…aka Volvo. Well so I had to come out of that. Just after checking whole bus stop again and with no luck, I headed towards a local tea stall.
There were many buses standing there. Now just try to imagine how many offers I would have got to go to Delhi, Kotdwar, Shimla, Chandigarh…but damn it…not a single one for Doon. Well I wanted to visit Shimla for sure but couldn’t had just left just like that right…when my parents were already eagerly waiting for their consignment. So there I was in front of the tea stall. I was pretty hungry by that time…so neglecting the usual Samosas and Cream Rolls…my eye’s attention went towards Fruitcake. Let me tell you, I am really fond of fruitcake. But when I picked it up and had a look at it, I lost my whole appetite. On top of that cake was written- Meenakshi Fruitcake. Well I’ve no idea who Meenakshi was but just the idea that they were Meenakshi’s fruitcakes was very odd for me. Well obviously she must be searching for her fruitcakes somewhere and here they were…being served in public. Well to be honest that wasn’t the reason for my lost appetite. It were the houseflies that were hovering around the stall.
So anyways…just then around 5 I heard Dehradun…Dehradun! Oh…that was such a relief. I just ran towards that voice and entered in it to get a window seat before anyone else does. Well at that moment of time a good seat was easily available…that too- a window seat. The conductor took 40₹ and I was off on my way back to home. Well just when I thought everything is normal(boring) again…yet another unusual thing happened. So what happened was…when the bus actually left the Haridwar bus station, conductor counted the number of passengers that should be on board according to the number of tickets. Turns out there was one of the passenger who bought a ticket till Haridwar but didn’t deboard there. So the conductor called out- is there anyone who was supposed to get off at Haridwar? No one replied. He asked again….again no response. Well he became furious now. Well see in Delhi…only people who are concerned about tickets and all are the Ticket Checker team. Conductor in Delhi hardly ever checks anyone’s ticket. But here in UK(oh I love saying UK)…its like a big deal…they have to make sure that everyone bought a ticket…coz after all…out of that money only, they buy their daily dose of half sized desi botal(precisely called in Hindi as botal and not bottle…even though both are exactly same). So now he started checking out tickets of each and every passenger. Well after little search…it turned out that one sleeping Panditji were the one who had to get down at Haridwar and he was so deep into his sleep that he didn’t even realize that bus stopped in Haridwar. Well so he was taken off of the bus and thus the bus moved on.
Just after 10 minutes there was a halt in Motichoor region; a train was passing by. Well in this route from Delhi to Doon this is the only railway crossing. So there we were standing-by for the train to pass and down at my window pane someone knocked. Well I saw down and saw a little kid asking me to buy a garland made of chrysanthemum. Well the thing is that these kids and their families earn their livelihood by these ways. For them these trains are like the only method to earn something. Some of them sell Corn(Bhutta), some Garlands, some coconuts, etc. Well I couldn’t buy a garland from that kid coz it was no use for me. Neither I had won a gold medal in any Olympics that I deserved to wear one nor was it my birthday or marriage(oh I wish it was my marriage). So as soon as train passed…our bus moved again.
Within just half an hour I was finally in Bhaniyawala area. I got off at the point where my father usually waits for me when I come back from Delhi. And as expected, he was there standing there beside our 24 year old Yamaha RX-100. Well say whatever you wanna…but that bike is a gem. Though one of my school time classmate denied to go to farewell with me in that bike…but beside that setback…it has it’s own pride. Its so easy to use and so light-weight that John Abraham can pick 3 of those at once like he did in ….I am really not able to remember which movie.
So anyways… I gave my heavy bag to my Paa and took the charge of the bike myself. And just within 15 mins or something I was back at home with my lovely Tuffy ready to welcome me.
So that’s what happens when you take a bus instead of train or airplane. See…what a great adventure one misses.(Well I won’t mind travelling in plane…but it is damn too costly). See the irony here… I live just beside the runway of the only working airport in whole UK and leave the flying thing aside….I’ve never even been inside an airplane or even touched it.
So anyways… I hope you enjoyed the article.
This poem is written with perspective of Dawood Ibrahim, a fortunate 15 year old to escape the Peshawar massacre. His alarm clock didn’t go off so he overslept and missed school. Every single member of his class was killed in the atrocity.
I am scared,
Scared to go inside through those doors again,
Scared to be alone without any mate to be with,
Coz they all left me to take their classes in heaven.
Should I be sad and jealous about this,
That I can’t be with them anymore,
Or rather be pleased to be here at the ground,
Safe and protected under my mother’s warm shroud.
You have your own shroud now…just yesterday I saw you all having one,
But what warmth will it be giving to your cold cadavers?
I can’t even act like being envious and asking same for me,
Though I am so distressed that I wish I had one too.
Sometimes I think am I really safe now?
Was that their last vengeance upon us?
Can I go out and play again?
With my new imaginary pals.
I can’t even shed tears anymore for you all,
Coz I am all dried up by now,
The porch of my eyely abode,
Is now just a frozen lake of tears.
I am not even that big yet,
To understand the gravity of this situation,
But I try to comprehend about it,
From the profuse denials of my mother to let me go out again.
Though I see my father standing tall as always,
Showing his obvious machismo that he is supposed to,
But through his grimly eyes I can feel,
The terrifying thought of losing me.
This fear has shaken everyone around,
Even the thought of it happening again gives me jitters,
But rather than perishing every day here like this,
More willing I’ll be to receive their bullet in my skull
Why on name of devout practices like Jihad,
Some of us even forget what humanity was like,
And every now and then carry out the extermination,
Of our own kind, the innocent and wise
Bring an end to this charade… I beg you all,
Enough with your ways of terrorizing our souls,
We aren’t scared of you or your carnage,
We are just afraid to lose our loved ones at such a young age.
Show some mercy upon our souls,
Just think for a moment, think on your own,
That why would the almighty be so willing to accept,
Those now deceased spirits whom he himself gave life to rest
Though someday you all will realize this fact,
And then repent for all your vindictive acts.
But what should I do…with nothing around,
With all my mates buried under ground.
With whom will I share my pain and joys,
To whom would I disclose all the changes I go through being a boy.
I am scared …but not scared of death alone,
What I am really scared of… is to be forever desolate and forlorn.
As the sun set in dawning style,
But not as similar to the morning time.
I moved in the dark with my withering steps
As some of the successor went laughing by.
Little time ago, I too was in this race
But soon got lost due to my own mistakes.
I am walking alone in this nightmare dark,
With fog helping the rivals, in diminishing my spark.
Soon some passed with their successful stride
With their lights opened at ultimate height.
In my lost world, when hope was shorted sight
I found the right path, and went straight aright.
Soon that barrier of faultiness was deprived
And I got this feeling that:- Hope Was Still Alive
Though every second my brain cell grows,
And every moment I get one minute old,
Should I be merry that my birthday has arose,
Or rather I should be in grief that my farewell is close.
This is the delusion which simply arose,
Because of our tendency to forget and ignore.
To forget the sorrowful end we will receive,
At the end of our life for ignoring and deceive.
Deceiving those friends and admirer of thine,
Who had love and affection for you every time.
Each and every moment who would feel the pain,
Of parting with you as their affection went in vain.
They are the one who would be so obsessed,
By you and your memories and your rejoicing jest.
They were the one who deserved at least,
A last meeting with you till you take your last breath.
That last glimpse of your eye’s spark which they couldn’t get.
Those last words they heard from you which they can’t forget.
Oh! Doesn’t they deserved to see the moment when you left.
Or either to gain your meagre importance they had to give a test.
If you could come back from your eternal afterlife,
And see the dreadful condition of the people including your wife.
You would find those people are in so miserable state,
That even their tearful eyes couldn’t change the fate.
Though this rule of nature is itself so utterly bleak,
That every time when someone departs, we all start to weep.
This wailing for short time is not so prolong,
As every person on this land knows that show keeps going on.