Drawing Curtains.

That faint hope

which lingers

in every breath

in every rush of blood

in every sigh

in every cry

moving s l o w l y

through the chest

making it heavy

for a long, long time..

after the show is over,

SUCKS!

_______

Picture source

Get Inspired But Do Not Copy.

Infusing, string after string

A thousand chapters,

A thousand more words

In you, 'the better one'.

Where I'll come back to read

Time and again

Snippets of life,

And you'll still be the same
My world, my Mirage.

___________

How disheartening it is to see the work which you have honestly crafted with your own thoughts and emotions being used by somebody else publicly, without due credits or permission...even if it is an iota of all.  And what is more hurtful is the fact that being too polite, your self-conscience wouldn't allow you to speak up and clear things out.

It sucks! Big time. >_<

Being an ardent writer, I've always been aware of the writing ethics and like every other blogger, plagiarism is dealt with a big no. Due credits are given to every little piece which I take from any external source. It isn't so hard. Trust me! But why do some people, being a writer themselves popularize the opposite by copy-pasting stuff from their fellow bloggers' blog? Are you insensitive or busy pretending that you don't know anything? Huh...grow up and get a life, ape. (Talking to the concerned ones)

Mirage is like a part of me where I can be read, where I enjoy being read by my little blog family. Snatching  away this part of me and projecting it to be yours shall not be tolerated any further. If you're the concerned one, take this very seriously.

Because FYI, I'm mute by choice. Period.

A Shame.

The veins have become achingly black and numb. The pain in the mind as well as in the soul is desperately hunting down a way to vent it out. This air that I breathe, that I'm taking in involuntarily, brings along the cries of those two withered souls. It brings along the whispers of those who were nothing but thick-skinned mute spectators,  who stood there, right there in front of them and indulged in extended conversations instead of covering the victims with a piece of cloth. Of the three PCR vans which were busy fighting over the jurisdiction for the case while they both lay in a pool of blood, on a chilly winter night. And above all, of those who are but demons in guise of men and who have wrenched the mind of every citizen with their gruesome and heart-aching act.

All such people, everyone, not just the accused, have blotted the term 'humanity' for me and for us. They have ruptured the small, little, tiny yet strong assumption which we had that 'we walk among respectable people and that the society wouldn't eat us alive'. They have ruptured it oh so badly.

It's such a shame.

Goosebumps? Ah..they have become a settled part now. The appalled and frightful look is losing its shade and sadly turning into an expressionless dead face. A face which is an overt portrayal of shame and disgust. An expression of helplessness which perhaps every woman in my country is wearing right now.

And yes, in the end, it is the society which has died. The beliefs. The values. The perception. The patriarchal norms. The blame-the-girl looks. The look-down-upon-her behavior. Everything! Everything has been crushed to death, along with that young brave girl. Because this time, it is so not about just that one girl. This time it is not like change-the-news-channel-and-move-on-with-your-lives. This time, it is about me, you, your sister, your wife, your mother and your daughter.

As this time, the nation cried!

Blinding Light.

Losing the senses

There she stood in solitude

Blinding light of anger.

_______

Written for: Haiku Heights #Day20