I don’t mind watching gory bloody movies. It is entertaining to see zombies chasing humans and getting their brains blown out of their heads.
It is nice to play counter-terrorism games too.
I get dreams at night where I am fighting against them, gun ready for action.

But when I saw two women fighting in the train the other day, blood streaming from their face, pulling each others hair, I cried. I cried for the reason they fought over, ones umbrella nudged the other. Cried for the savage, uncivilized look in their eyes.
Cried for the world is a scary place really.
And I prayed to god. Don’t let this happen to my people.


Prayer
~Tabish Khair

Grant me a little child
I can hide
When the mullahs come home to pray.
When planes are birds of prey.


Someone
Smaller than my thumb
I can put in my pocket and run.

Yesterday, on my commute, I was sitting idly. No books, no music on me. Too bored to surf on my cell phone. Wishing I would reach home quick. I looked out of the window, leaning back on my seat. And then I heard some snippets of conversation flowing my way. The woman in blue sitting next to me was having an animated conversation with her neighbor.

Blue woman "I thought my husband was playing some joke on me. I could still see her online."

The neighbor "How was she online! How old was the poor thing?"

Blue woman "She was only 27! She was still logged on through her blackberry phone. It was the most disturbing thing I had ever felt in my life."

The neighbor "Oh dear! Very young. Tsk tsk."

Blue woman "I kept thinking if I ping her, she would reply. Laugh at me and tell me I was mad. Only after I saw her lying lifeless in her house could I believe."

The neighbor "Why did she do that? Was she married?"

Blue Woman "She was depressed, they say. I was her closest friend and I never knew about such a thing. Yeah, she was married, they had eloped. She used to blog a lot. All her posts too never suggested any depressive or suicidal tendencies. She broke my heart right apart. Her husband used to be the life of parties. But now he won't even make eye contact."

The neighbor "He must feel guilty. Must have felt helpless. I feel so terrible for him. What she did was very cowardly."

Blue woman "I think it's very hard to kill your own self. Every human loves himself more than anything else. To take your own life. The mere thought makes me shudder."

Blue woman shows her neighbor the dead girls' blog. I can't help looking at her phone screen.
My brain memorizes the blogs name, involuntarily.













Namz…loves life


I reach home. My parents think I am not well; I slam the door of my room shut, go and read her blog. The last entry was written few days before she killed herself. She seemed so cheerful and happy. I read on in morbid fascination. She talked about dying often. Was scared of dying. God! What a waste.

And then this guy, a travel blog writer, he does all the things that I want to do. He takes year long trips. Goes places with his funny friends. Writes about it. Takes pictures of amazing stuff. And I sit here in my unmovable, boring, monotonous stupor. I so wanna get out and go there. And I so can’t. I wonder who will be my trip mates. I need some sensible around me. I am too volatile to stay on one thing. *sigh*
When are you coming, my world trip?

I read about this place in Poland where the Jews were exterminated. The Auschwitz concentration camp. Now, it has been converted to a museum depicting the terror of the holocaust.
I feel hope shrivel every time I see those images, of the prisoners' shoes, their hair, suitcases, all collected in different rooms before the mass gassing. They killed approximately 6000 very single day.
I wonder what we are to call these people. What happened to them is beyond comprehension. They were murdered because of one fools command. They were denied all civil rights. Hitler upped the brutality of cold blooded madness by several thousand notches. I hope such worthless and destructive hatred will never be instilled in anyone again.