Feb 2011
Now……..all over me, fly these treacherous bullets and bombs, I have got no other option, but to tussle in this Satan’s home. His hazy silhouette, his jagged bayonet........ somehow, withholding that emotional torrent; covertly, cowardly, I did what I was supposed to do, eased his misery, I freed his soul. Deep down I can’t accept that my hands are now defiled, but Mother shed no tear for me……….please, don’t you cry.
Father, I still remember that toy gun, which you had bought for my birthday. Its ironical that even after several years, I play with my gun, night after night, day after day. But when I realise that it can never be that toy I had, the clatter it produced, which is now the theme song of my life, dismay is all I got, it kills me from inside, but father shed no tear for me....... please, don’t you cry.
Brother, do you remember that day , when I had pushed you from behind, you bruised your knee on the ground, in dust lay your broken bike. Forgive me , for the sake of those good old times, Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, when we walked in the wild, hiding from mother, and running away from the frets of our lives. I am sorry that I will never be able to see u rise and shine, but brother shed no tear for me....... please, don’t u cry.
Sitting here , in my garrison , I think about all those things that I have done. It is my choler that I can no longer contain, because this may be the last time, when I lift my pen. I have to accept this reality with great composure composure but I have made u proud, haven’t I? So Mother please smile, as my last breath will be for you, in your arms I shall die.
Father, I still remember that toy gun, which you had bought for my birthday. Its ironical that even after several years, I play with my gun, night after night, day after day. But when I realise that it can never be that toy I had, the clatter it produced, which is now the theme song of my life, dismay is all I got, it kills me from inside, but father shed no tear for me....... please, don’t you cry.
Brother, do you remember that day , when I had pushed you from behind, you bruised your knee on the ground, in dust lay your broken bike. Forgive me , for the sake of those good old times, Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, when we walked in the wild, hiding from mother, and running away from the frets of our lives. I am sorry that I will never be able to see u rise and shine, but brother shed no tear for me....... please, don’t u cry.
Sitting here , in my garrison , I think about all those things that I have done. It is my choler that I can no longer contain, because this may be the last time, when I lift my pen. I have to accept this reality with great composure composure but I have made u proud, haven’t I? So Mother please smile, as my last breath will be for you, in your arms I shall die.
