dEMISE oF tHe dARK

 

It has been 16 years of our relationship-you and me. 16 years of compromising-fighting, debating and then finding that nothing can be done. 16 years are nothing petite – I have known you better each minute, each second, but still- I don’t understand you, neither I care to.

Each moment passes like an year.

It is you who holds my hand all the day and you who envelopes me all long the night-only you. My sight, my feelings, my aura -everything is yours by mandate – every known and unknown.

I won’t lie – I want to flee away from you – so

 

mewhere really far…but my destiny binds me. Where ever I go, I find you.

No-it isn’t love. It never will be.

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They say you are my destiny, thus I have tried to be devoted to you, but never could.

No one can, no one will.

How can anyone, how can I? It’s you who eats my soul all the day and curses my dreams each night…you have taken my everything away from me – even my shadow……

 

I want to be free-can’t you get this? 16 years of our relationship, and you took away my everything – and I got simply nothing. My each breath struggles to be free; my each drop of blood yearns…

I have spent my nights crying in a nutshell and my days wearing a disguise of life. Why should I carry on? Why?

I didn’t choose you. What right do you have to rule on my life?

No, I am ending this finally- I am ending your unobstructed glory. I know, it will pain a lot, but I don’t care.

Some flashing strokes of light are knocking my door.

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Yes, I am getting my colorful world back. I am getting my eyes back! Our 16 years of relation is going to end.

Yes, this is happening…finally, end of your tyranny.

Finally- after 16 years…

Adios darkness, I am engaging with colors…

I can see everything…i can see light!

Your rule ends…happy demise…

I GOT MY EYES BACK!

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©2013 Snehal Sahay

 

This post is contributed to TRIFECTA WRITING CHALLENGE.

-> http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/

LIGHT (noun)

 

Visit this site to know more!

 

 

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She

grl3

Pleasant sunshine once hit her face

But she unwillingly turned around

Clutching away the sadness she had enrolled

Since the day she was found

No one did ask her about her distress

No one did care, no one did crave

The soul never sighed, the soul never leaped

The soul only whimpered in her sleep

At times she bubbled, at times she blurred

But something mystified the aura around her

Such confused and such perplexed

Was I when I thought about her…

Once her brown beady eyes saw some rain

And then I did spot their hidden pain

But still she lied, still remained strong in fib

This made the paper touch my nib

Such was she…

grl1

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A book has not just a cover to rate

 

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Ten thousand miles away from you,

Doesn’t make me unknown to your bruises and pains

Ten thousand steps ahead of you,

Doesn’t stop me cheering at the rains.

 

Ten thousand times above your head,

Doesn’t take away my strength to fall and start all again

Ten thousand ways of meeting mess ups

Doesn’t make me familiar to all the deceptions in the game.

 

Ten thousand years of living life just,

Makes no one solemn expert and acute in the never ending treks

Ten thousand years of suffering and anguish has,

No contract over the demise of the joyful sparks.

 

A book has not just a cover to rate…

© 2013  Snehal Sahay

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Enjoy the paradox!

Forgotten

 

 

lll

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Old, shattered, tattered

Are the remains of my quest

Blinking, shrinking, dropping

My eyes like the rest…

 

Pale, sulky, tender

My moods in a nest,

Unknown, unspoken, unaddressed

Still remains my quest…

 

Falling, preaching, still growing

My soul unlike the rest

Cornered, stinging, growling

Still paining is my quest…

 

Never forgot it, but never perceived

In the crowd of the mist

Time slips, but still it stands

Undone, unleashed, at its best…

Forgotten, in a way is my quest…

 

 

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We often live a happy, cheerful, fruitful life…growing and learning what each moment has to offer, but still, we forget to do, or as we say, “lack in time” for what we were made and were meant… our own quest, what so ever it may be…

We may be surrounded by thousands of fruitful tasks and  be well distant, but does it not sting somewhere…somewhere, that we left it?

 

Do we need to find a room for it, or leave it in the best form ever…fresh and never touched?

 

 

 

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The Delhi case on fire…

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My pen is silent these days. I do not feel like writing or doing any such sort of business … the silence has surrounded me.

The silence and the shame.

The guilt.

 

Worthless. Worthless is my existence.

 

A 23 year old girl was brutally raped and assaulted in Delhi, and is suffering the worst…a situation I can never imagine…neither want to… who would?

And I’m silent. Just quiet.

My pen is immovable.

 

Not that I don’t want to speak…but I don’t know what to speak.

 

There are too many things I want to say but my emotions drown my words. I break down every time I speak. My fingers tremble.

My eyes cloud.

I’m having nightmares.

I cry without a reason.

 

Is this what a girl is made for? To be trashed? To be assaulted? To be raped?

Since the time a girl is born, she faces discrimination. Every girl.

Yes, every one of them.

 

Some take it as a fate and live happily ever after. Some don’t and still live.

The we learn the “golden rules of girlhood”. The superior/inferior business.

More than half of the girls never take a decision of their lives by themselves….but leave it.

Come to the point.

 

Rape.

 

Why is the word so “prejudiced”?

Why do the criminals only get much to much “7 years imprisonment”?

Why are we so “ashamed” in discussing it?

How can someone give an “invitation”?

How are the victim’s clothes responsible?

How is the time of the day responsible?

HOW IS THE GIRL RESPONSIBLE?

 

Does/Can a random person do these brutish things? Can you do it?

 

Heaven’s sake these questions did not burn loud this time, because the crime was …. don’t think we have a right word for it.  The world’s whole curse can’t would be less.

 

Delhi is burning with marches, revolts and protests. People are working. Media is working. Police is working. We are working.

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Where were we when it could be stopped?

 

Just telling you in one sentence, if the girl was wearing a “skirt” or something, she would be blamed half the time.

Yes. This is the reality.

Our world’s reality.

 

Bloody hell….

 

Tomorrow, another piece of news will flood the channels.

These marches will stop. These forces will scatter. These tweets, blogs will end. The fields would be empty.

If she survives, all she would get is worthless pity.

 

Worthless? No. it will make her life worse than now.

 

When I heard the news, I said to my best friend, “I wish she makes it out…god bless her…”

She gravely replied, “It would be better if she dies….or she will die each moment she lives….she will be a living corpse…”

 

I was shocked, but somewhat agreed too. I didn’t want her to die, but even couldn’t think of a good happy life after this.

 

I read yesterday, “she wants to live…”.

 

It struck to me. I am mentally slapping myself every second for agreeing ever to my friend a bit.

Who am I to decide or even think/discuss whether she has a happy life or not?  Who are we?

 

 

I salute that girl.

 

I just pray she lives a long and happy life. She lives, not just survives.

Her intestines might never let her have food in her whole life. She would rely on liquid, if she makes it out. These thoughts might never leave her. Those shadows might haunt her.

 

But I pray to god, she MUST live. Live for her dreams, for ours too.

 

 Why do these things ever happen? Why?

“Cant men have a sense?”

 

I have heard and seen people saying/holding boards saying Teach your sons to respect, not rape”.

True.

 I have seen boys boiling about it. “All boys are not rapists.”

 

True, but some definitely are. A rotten apple rots all.

 

Can’t we do something? Shouldn’t we?

 

NO. WE MUST.

 

I see a very drastic situation in the future, a very drastic…when there will be riots.

Sounds dramatic?

I don’t say who will win, who will lose, for only inhumanity wins a riot. But if this doesn’t stop, those won’t stop either.

 

For when tolerance breaks…patience breaks…lives break.

 

Just wish things get under control before time takes its toll….

 

 

Is there a way out? Humanity is losing hope….

 

 

Do you have a hope?

 Another important question, what is the suitable  punishment for such a crime?

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Is there one?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If just…

if

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If just life flew like water

Hearts would not burn as fire,

If just love over-rode lust

We would live, not just desire….

.

.

.

If just time passed like wind

The wounds won’t sting each time and pain,

If just understanding rode over egos,

Eyes would bubble instead of rain…

.

.

.

If just thoughts escaped like sand

Little moments won’t be called days,

If just feelings could speak aloud

Words won’t get wasted in endless ways…

 

If just…

 

 

©2012

 

 

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Thanks for being with me and being a part of my paradox.

Enjoy!