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The rights of the silenced

What happens,
in the winning of a conquest?
What dwells in the victory of a name,
over the bloodied mutilations of your men?

The silence of a cut-throat,
staggering past the bombed,
in anticipation of a blast or a bullet,
or blazing fires in the camp of the wounded,

The pain of a blasted lith,
it's owner shedding tears of dread,
of his unthinkable morrow,
overcast with sorrow,

The fear of a suicide bomber,
prepared for his plight,
for you to fight for his rights,
after his body lies in a shamble,

The darkness of the blinded,
because of chemical components
overturning their vision of truth
into the prison of the dark,

The sagacious fear in me,
of your children's minds,
that shine pure, because of your lure,
may not endure your crude intent,

"What do you gain,
of their fear, the dark and their pain?
What do you conquer,
the rights of the silenced?"

*Dust thou art and,
*unto dust thou shall return,
with your name, fame and glory,
with your rights of your dead!



* The Holy Bible: Genesis 2:7 & Job 34:15



This post is a part of Indiblogger's IndiChange- Idiya

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CHAPTER 3


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Image courtesy: Internet

To write is to dwell

FEBRUARY 15th, 2012





















What writing means to me...

As lonely as a cloud, as boring as boredom itself, I was. I grew up as a typical child at school but a very hefty one, I am still the same. I managed to cheer people with my innocence but did not manage to make happy friends to last a lifetime because of my gross physique. I couldn't play as I had no playmates at home and my only hobby was to sit and watch tv.

When I was studying in kindergarten, I used to visit a nearby shop with my dad. My dad was busy shopping for groceries and I engaged myself in observing things around me. The people who had mixed emotions that outshone on their faces, an old man cycling with a lot of strain, probably getting back home, the lady vendor with her dirty saree pinned up to her waist and squatting on the floor, selling vegetables, the autowala bargaining with his potential customer, the green trees which arched high with its countless leaves, the flowers that smile at me on the road side, happy child…