Thursday, January 10, 2013


Meera opened her mail and there was a mail from Gayatri..

It is that i know you are annoyed of invasionsIntruders are firing across the border. I find no reason why i need to get reminders of a past on every seconds of my life. I think it is that i am the only person to forget past for a few to create stories.

Today i thought of the past invasions of our life and i know there no point in thinking about the past disasters.. Invasions in general end up in bloodshed

I wrote this for you Meera that i get this anger when i think of the forgive, forget seekers  and their one sided philosophy.. When they attack another territory why they realize not and read not the same philosophy.. I need to write out again about the invaded land of my  origin which lost all the fine alphabets on provocations of invaders..Peace has lost its final alphabet on the boundary lines of control...I need to write about one more time to tell you that  Meera, it is not my fault that i had to encounter with the ones who stepped in my territory. Error, Misjudgement.... i know i hear reasons after my heartbeats are torn beyond even for me to recognize..

On my Line     

It wasn't my fault that someone decided to invade my nation..
I was in  school when it happened..
My mother  read newspapers and told me that mighty ones are ignorant and fearful always that they wish to  control  everyone around. They lose their own control while invading other nations.. 

When i grew up technology has taught me about progress. Instead of using technology to create a beautiful painting someone broke his brain to invade my nation.. Sad... he had only that much little vision.. If i had a chance i would not have done that.. My mother had taught me that i should not open and read another person's letter. But he did that and believed he is the most enlightened soul of this universe..
He was so curious to know who sent me letters, whom i meet and what i do in my house.. Too curious until he fell from the window sill he was standing to watch me without my knowledge..

My fist reaction was surprise that i never thought he could do such a job....   He has shaken a belief, a fine part of trust. Error or misjudgment?? i don't know...When i was confirmed about his role, my surprise had turned into rage..If he would have come in front of me at that time i would have given him a volcano from my heartbeats. He escaped narrowly because he did not come in front of me and i had to find a different option to confront him . I did not look around when i poured my anger in words and a few people thought that i am too arrogant to publicly thrash someone like that.. Good god.. they don't know how much mental torture he has gifted me in his face mask.. They have decided to isolate me for his fault.. Oh Great... be happy.... that i tell you in my own sarcasm.. You have done a great job...

Years moved ahead of me in seasons and i have passed my grades with good mark and a few teachers tried to give me less marks in a few subjects listening to him and i revalued my papers to prove that they were doing such things to make me feel small. 

I have passed my grades and  started writing poetry.....
The person who fell from the window sill had shares in media houses and he has instructed a few headless editorial board  not to publish any of my writings. It hurts at times and it is painful to take such a fate.. 

I have not stopped writing that i thought if i stop i deceive my own conscience.. I did not want to hurt my conscience. I knew past will overpower me to hurt in colours and comparisons.. I did not want my conscience to look too small in front of the invaders who wanted to polarise me on their own convictions..

I have decided to take shelter in technology to use it for progressive thinking.. Not to sting, not to chase but to write poetry, to protect my own conscience...

Years ago in libraries i sat
to learn about the universe
and a shadow entered
through my eastern home window 
blocking light from entering...In one error filled day
i voiced against the shadows
to end up in one battlefield
as the shadows could only
paint  a contrast image of light...

It is not winter that frozen my  beliefs 
but the shadow which conspired
 near my window sill...

Today I  read about Azerbaijan, the largest country in the Caucasus region located at the crossroads of  Europe and Asia..    World has a  lot to offer me..

Gayatri has written a story, a poem for Meera..
Shadows can only cause temporary traumas.. Le me believe in that..

How small this world can be at times..
From border lines to my window sill i know i have crossed  a broken bridge... alone..The furious river of the past has narrowed down under the bridge....

I have closed my windows but still hear the noise of the conspiring shadows when i sit near my writing table...
From my school days i have grown and now i know how shadows speak ...



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