I felt positively compelled by myself to write when I read about the Pakistan situation in newspapers and the Internet. That's one topic that hasn't failed to serve as a source of headline news almost always in the recent times. I find it hard to grasp the names of the organizations, so I can't really put them down here. But methinks they're all the same, just different faces and names. It makes me wonder how people could possibly be so, so aggressive and ruthless. Its mindblowing stuff, really, to devote one's life to killing others. I don't quite understand their ideals, whatever they may be. But its sad that they should resort to massacring to achieve them, and take pride in that. How can anybody find peace in doing such things? How can someone take others' lives away just like that? How can anybody advocate violence against innocent people and claim that their way of living? What kind of a human would put his skills to making bombs that would cause savage destruction and cruelly rip people off their lives? Can anybody find satisfaction at the end of everything, if at all this vicious quest does have an end? The military forces have begun an assault against the terrorists and hope to wipe them out within two months. I don't know how many lives are going to be forsaken and how much bloodbath the world is going to witness. There's no denying the amount of pollution and bad air everything is going to kick up. But then again, there's no stopping anything. I can't find the right words to end, and my mind is replete with embroilment.

Is death the end of everything, or the beginning of a new journey, one away from the path trodden by the gullible yo yo's, into spaces that show up neither under the morning sun nor the midnight stars? I don't know. In fact, when I retreat into my occasional reveries, I realize I don't know a lot of things. But it's okay, I guess. With you gone, I'm surprised something's okay.
I miss the girl who journeyed mud roads on a scooter ridden by the greatest grandfather in the entire universe.
I miss the girl who hogged innumerbale ice creams with every second buck this grandpa guy made.
I miss the girl who snapped one of her first photographs since birth, with him.
I miss the girl who wouldn't save a moment's peace for this guy until he got her the big balloon packet and bubbles she pestered him for.
It's an incredibly short time I spent with you. Sixteen years. God was clearly not in a mood to let the good times stay. It's so easy to be with someone you love, not realizing those moments will not last. That's exactly what I was, carefree and naive, completely shut from the reality that would soon dawn upon me. But that is how it works, isn't it? Time to wake up, do your thing, jest and stay jolly, blow a fuse, curse the fates, and get back home. Somehow, it seems different when someone isn't back in his place the next day. I cannot believe the tears four years after you left.
The green scooter
The goddamned accident
The sickening ICU
The twisted tubes and the swollen head. A man resting peacefully, ignorant of the anguished spectator, deep in slumber.
The darkest picture I ever set my eyes upon.
Death
Numbness.
Mohan Naidu, rest in peace. I hope heaven's treating you right. I miss you, terribly so.