Old songs and farewells. Bomb blasts and taking exams. Hangings and burning alive, cheers and whistles, cries and screams—which ones are happy, which ones, sad. Giving love and taking life, giving life and breaking hearts—this is life? I don’t understand.
Firing for celebration, firing for vengeance—what is the difference, they say, when at the end of the end a mother cries, a child sobs, a lover dies, a story untold.
Life is unfair.
Go screw yourself—Because that’s not what a child grows up for.
For the dreams to shatter,
For a heart to break,
For his hero to die,
For the cars to crash,
And his wounds to be told that they’ll never heal?
Devise a new strategy. Tell them they won’t get a new toy if they break this one. Hide his father and tell him he’s dead. Break his heart at an early age so that when it breaks again, it doesn’t break him all over again. Tell him he will never make a pilot, a doctor, an astronaut because you know, he might never will. Why train him to be stupid? Isn’t it what life is?
Words. Yes we play with words. We play with words to ruin lives. Kill, slay, slaughter, hang, destroy, demolish and raze people and their hearts. And then we play with hearts to compensate.
But hearts are where God lives. And God you see, has not been happy for a long time.
Epilogue: It’s been days since I’ve tried to form words. But they refuse to come out. There has been chaos around and my heart is a mess. It has just become too hard to cope with all the bloodbath around, people trying to find fault in order to hurt you, and breaking people’s hearts has become the easiest thing to do.
I’ve tried to word my feelings in the easiest possible way. It has not been easy but I had to let them out.