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I pray today for the souls of all the victims of the absolute terror unleashed by mindless creatures. May God rest their souls in peace.

An Evening

The afternoon is hot and humid And the soul and body wet With the sweat trickling down my body As I walk along the road, and everything is set In the grand order of things that has been designed By some forces unknown and benign And hear the traffic honk and the people scream As the afternoon passes across, pulling in the evening screen The sun is going down, and evening approaches While people start moving around again,as life enervates On these earlier dead road alleys and pathways That are the lifeline for the world enclosed in this tiny space The temples ring bells, the minarets sound the azaan To all faithful, come one come all Come pay your obeisances to the One God Seek his shelter humbly, for He hates none and forgives all And people mill about, and traffic snarls begin While the crows crow away, and sparrows begin to sing Their voices drowned out in this strange cacophony That the race of humanity causes which is called a din The sun witnesses silently, as it changes its hues

WAR

War These three letters make so much of a difference to life Reversing the order, so that fathers bury sons And widows are made out of wives And children lose fathers for no cause of theirs And lovers lose lovers for no reason And bodies pile up, with no destination Lying within coffins of wood, metal or resin While mothers lose children On both sides of the divide Yet none has the remorse for the other "They did their duty, we are doing ours" Is the common refrain And while the bodies and its parts pile up In planes, in cars and on trains Wrapped in the country's flags, motionless they lie As they are remembered for the first and last time Only to be forgotten forever And in prisons pile up prisoners Who rot away ignored by their own people While feeling uncomfortable when their kin question "why did you ignore my father, my brother, my son?" And tombs are raised To mock the misery of human beings And offer floral tributes on special days While the other days i
It has been a long duration since the time that I had last put up something on this blog. I do not know if anyone even wants me to write anything at all, or if anyone eve cares to read what I have written. Anyways, I would still say that it is my fault that I have been unfaithful to something that I had promised I would follow up earnestly. Life has been a bit of a rolling stone, gathering no moss of the type that I always desired. I will try to keep up. I have a couple of ideas in my mind, and hopefully they will turn out into something meaningful. Please pray that I maange to do so.
I had a strange day, but one that was tiring and frustrating at the same time. Everything was going against me, it felt as if I was moving against the tide. I have gone crazy, and feel tired, and feel like curling up in a bed and hide myself from the world. I wish the world was not so cruel as it is. Anyways, I wish everyone Shubho Bijoy and Happy Dussehra, and hope that only good exists in your lives.
It was an interesting day, as I visited some of the most farthest places in my knowledge today. Sitting here in Thiruvananthapuram today, I can only recall the tiresome journey to Radhapuram Taluk in Tirunelveli District, the birthplace of the saint-poet Thiruvalluvar, for some work. How beautiful can a country get? This is a question that often creeps in my mind, as each time I visit a new place, I am left speechless by the sheer magnificence of this nation's dazzle and colours, and it is really an amazing experience to discover the country, its people and places in the land that I proudly call India. Anyways, I shall talk more later about some other issues, when I get back to Hyderabad. Right now, with people sitting on my head, can't say much now, can I???

Murder and Death

And again, it happened. Shrieks filled the air, as the knife went past her body, and blood spurted out of the veins, and splattered all over the walls and the bed and any place that it could find to leave its impact on. The glass curtain that silence often tends to draw over the darkness of night was shattered to an infinite number of pieces, most of which could not even be counted, let alone repair; it had been permanently destroyed, at least for tonight. I was standing outside the house, and had witnessed the knife go through her tender body, and which had started a fountain of blood that had even stained the table lamp that stood by her bed, and had quietly witnessed the gruesome crime being committed. Her shriek sounded as if a spirit was being tortured in hell; maybe it’s the sign of the Angel of Hell stealing your soul, seeking revenge for someone in exchange for their soul. But it was frightening, was the shriek, and the night was witness to all that it had surrounded, but conve