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The Awkward "are you happy?" Question

Two days ago, it was quite an usual morning when my favorite movie-mate and I were watching this really interesting movie called, Hec...

Saturday, February 25, 2012

When 'Irony' Strikes 'Might'. . .




On a cold frosty night, he went motionless lost into the deep ties of unconsciousness from where people never returned , his nasal cavity had given up its contraction and relaxation for it was no longer needed.The flawed mechanism planted within him had lng expired. They shook his numb physique, rubbing his limbs but he never stirred; no matter how much water they poured down his dried throat, it didn't soak anymore. The industrial servant of the mighty Arabian Lords had submitted his dear life onto their feet as a symbol of lifelong servitude!


Pain was a feeling he would not have to bear anymore , now that he had stepped ono the land of eternity.The awaiting lashes of their sadistic whips could not reach him, nor could their penetrating eyes seep into his heart anymore becasue ,here by the auspicious nightfall, death had bestowed him freedom! The 'free soul' scanned the vast , lone desert -soaring high in a blissful spiritual world- for his cruel, heartless masters who had held him captive for years.The spirit knew his offspring would no longer be marked as 'slaves', now that his escape from bondage had murdered the age-old custom of treating fellow human beings of 'low-make'.


His companions mourned silently on his demise, but in their hearts,they were screming dead since their possessed minds already signalled a sinister revelation: 'the deceased' had escaped from the 'skin-cutting shackles'!The ultimatum of protesting against the human-like predators ,under whose tyranny they served, was growing stonger. However, fate had something harder awaiting them , the so-called 'slaves' who were born to serve!


"No!. . but how do you plan to shut their mouths?" Siran asked the leader of the clan, Sheikh Muhsin Qarzai abdullah.


The Arab leader , with frowning lines on his forehaed, thought deeply. He relaised it was getting tougher to keep all his slaves, under such dire conditions, when they'd be running out of water after two days. Qarzai was frustrated, but he had his royal coustoms to uphold.The slaves could not be shown leniency for they would demand their rights then. The clan would lose its stance if void of slaves.


" But Jena's death can't be ignored.They'd KNOW we were responsible!" Muhammad alerted the 'still-absorbed-in-thought' Qarzai.


"Hold on. Nothting's going to befall! They are seldome going to be fed till we cross further ninety miles. . ," Qarzai ordered.


" Warn them! And if they decline, KILL THEM without an afterthought!" He declared in that authoritative voice of his, filled with menace.

Siran and Muhammad said nothing; all they needed was to cross the desert with the Arab clan.Depriving the slaves of food and water was more than inhumane, nevertheless nobody could raise their voice against it, for they knew Qarzai feared NONE! It any of the Gyosy guests dared oppose him, he was to get doomed in no time! The concept of 'death' was inevitably premeditated among the Surat clan, as they traveled though the coarse godforsaken land of Sahara towards the city of Qasam, their destination.

"Jena, don't fear! We'll revenge your death. . " Tasa blurted out the words ffrom his heavy throat, he could not stop his tears from welling.The slaves' families gathered together around a corner, the journey was over for the night but they were losing comapany almost everyday.Their innocent children curled in a hard sheet of date leaves falling asleep, as the womenfolk condoled Jena's wife who had just been widowed.



" Woe onto the Surat for their savagery! Woe onto Qarzai!" Tasa cursed out loud, under the blackened ,grim heaven of midnight Sahara. A gust of wind blew now and then, carrying the news of approaching sandstorm which meant anothet sleepless night for the slaves, tending to the people the resented at heart, the Surat clan.


"I'll kill the murderer of father when I grow up!" Jena's innocent child exclaime din childish grudge, as the lillte boy slippe dinto the arms of slumber.


However, as the spirit of Jena hovered around them in search of elief, it knew the descendant it had left behind would avenge his unjustified death.The soul of Jena,recalling the inhumane tortures he had endured wordlessly, was no more appalled as he knew this was the end of 70 years of servitude by the Arab Habshis.His death had opened the path to redemption , a new Dawn for the bloodline he had left behind!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

The Memoir - Of a Lost Soul and Winter




The Memoir- Of a Lost Soul and Winter



In the prelude to another cold night
Long ago, in November, at a dark hour of twilight
When leafless stood all trees. . . . . .
Branches frozen in their quest to touch the sky
Oh! Then the flamingoes too ceased to fly. . .
By the chilling winter gale as came floating a Cry
-A piercing scream confiding in the Night-
How her birth had finally begun her Fight!


Trespassing from the verge of Divinity on Transience
The Creator Lord had enclosed her Soul. . . . . .
Deep within the Flesh, and bound her to Mortality
In submission to His Oneness, promising her return to Eternity
He summoned her to depart, to be escorted by Affinity
“That she finally landed on Earth, blessed with innocence...”
Oh, fireflies even heard her tale, nodding in credence!

 
Once on Earth, the Ever-Loving didn’t forsake her
By His decree the angels hovered always near. . . .
A hundred dawns she woke up to soon,
When, through realms of Vision, she warmed to the Radiance
The lure of Ethereality rendered her Creed evanescence.
Being numbed by illusions to the pangs of Conscience,
Yet the Soul strove hard, dreading she might get too far. . .
For memories of the Divine Oaths were reviving all sheer!

And the voices in her head kept getting stronger
Led astray from true Faith could she survive longer?
All on a sudden November appeared so bleak. . . .
When, before the scrutiny of Reason, her dreams fled.
What Fairy Tale was before corroded into a vicious façade!
Even the primeval Cedars hadn’t seen in a decade. . .
Such writhing of Soul in repentance of an unknown Blunder!
Her ordeals lingered through nights, unending and colder….


Perhaps the sinister Raven too lamented at daybreaks. . .
How Nightingales no more sang of rebirth at her wake!
Yet when a capricious wind carried the voice of an acolyte…
To the blackness of Night she no longer hid her incredulity!
Beneath a starless heaven, thus her Resolve attained clarity
On bent knees, indebted to Him, as she prostrated to Almighty
Oh, how she pleaded for salvation from the Devil’s wreck!
By the sinless Moon, she had sworn her Faith to Heaven’s sake!

 
In abandonment of her dwelling of the Dark
She has finally escaped to where no devils lurk. ...
Where the blazing Sun forever fights the Gloom!
Shaded by the canopy of Cedars, on her quest to Light,
Her companions are the angelic Nightingales in flight.
And until the path of Redemption meets her sight,
The epilogue lies engraved stark on wintry cedar barks:
“She must fight her Battle against a world of Evil and the Dark!”



- 27/12/2010