The Blind Man saga.. The girl who hoisted the Red Flag

Day -3
Blood lust

One more day passed by, when the Maoist have hoisted the red flag high up in the air. The red Corridor of blood lust is increasing ever so fast. No more the fight against the government is restricted to forests & villages. The smaller unknown peaceful towns on the border of the red corridor are the new decisive Battlegrounds and have been set as a perfect example of the inefficiency of the Government in tackling the insurgency.
More than the brutal deaths on either side, it is the constant threat of the apocalyptic future for the common man, that has made life miserable throughout the entire regions.
Survival in these trying times, across various ethnic groups, pose a major challenge for each individual family.
Yet the indomitable human spirit, fights on a guerilla war daily for the very reason to provide a secure and better future for the coming generation. The government cant sit back and afford to relax, as it has always done in the past. The actions must speak for itself. The Maoist fights for a change. A change that was supposed to have brought prosperity to the most backward and downtrodden of the society. Yet scams after scams have left nothing for them except to retaliate in the most inhuman way possible. The government the present and the past which had like a crippled puppet watching from the sidelines and consoling themselves that the threat is not immediate and is not possible on such grandeur scale, is now willing to draw these Maoist leaders to the discussion tables.
It remains to be seen how effective would that be, considering the inefficiency is profound & writ large on its face.
Whatever be the reason, the girl who was raped multiple times by the CRPF jawans, tied and hanged upside down, abused to the core of the human soul possible, is now rightly hoisting the Red Flag in the middle of the town square, marching over the dead soldiers, the  very same ones whose job was to protect her in the first place.

what an irony of life...

The Blind Man Saga... Lake View Apartment

Day 2
Dead Tired...

Relocating to a new place is fun and a bit adventurous, but with so much packing, moving and unpacking to do, it becomes all the more pain at all the right places.
Not to forget, the looping anxiety that brews all the while, about the well being of the goods. Today happened to be my first complete relocation, and a successful one to begin with. Except for a slight headache and stiff calf muscles, everything seems to be in order.
I have gulped down two aspirin tablets  with my usual drink, to soothe the tendons.
Hope things will be better tomorrow morning.

The new apartment is on the 3rd floor of the majestic building, located on the outskirts, towards the south of the city, As I say,far from the madding crowd. Its ambience is serene and with a balcony beside my room, I could easily view glittering new high rise buildings still under construction. There is a beautiful lake near by, some 200 yards straight from the apartment's premises. Water has always a soothing effect on my nerves, and to see the placid water of the lake, undiluted with a bluish hue was a good sight to my sore eyes.
With the evening simmering in the distant and a dazzling display of lights emitting from far off places, it does look elegant. Especially the reflection of the light on the face of the lake. The place is still not clouded with any new building blocking off the sight, but the prospects of it are increasing, with the constructions going on around it.

With all unpacking done for the day, I need to rest my poor self.
There is a new place to be explored and secrets to be unearthed. ..

The Blind Man Saga...

Day 1
Blue Hour 
refers to the period of twilight each morning and evening where there is neither full daylight nor complete darkness.


There is a saying, "The night is darkest before the twilight". I have wondered about it quite often over the last few days. How often does one wake up in the morning to realize that the darkness of the night before is not over yet. what's worse, it isn't going to be over ever again.The nocturnal creatures will not stop to haunt your dreams. You lay in your bed, tossing over and over again waiting for sleep to drop by. Yet it remains a distant cousin who visits you once in a while, bringing joy into your life. And with that you also accept the fact that the dark shadows during the early hours of the night are going to be your tenants for life. Nightmares become your alibi. The rainbow is black. Funny as it may seem that my dreams are the playgrounds of many a characters that are yet to see the light of the day. They are pleading me to rescue them from the shadows that grows ever so rapidly towards them and yet, I have in all probability, summarized that whatever disasters happen, be it personal, local or global, happens to someone else in some other country, in some geography thousand of miles away. I did not believe I could be the lead subject of some very extreme situation happening to me. I am now the architect of my dreams and nightmares, I am the creator and the destroyer of the characters that dwell in those dreams and nightmares.. 


I am blind, Its the part that I came to know a few months ago. It has been rough ride ever since. However I am not completely blind or else I would not be here on this blank page pouring my thoughts out. I am in that hour of my life where I can clearly see the Earth rotating to enter the shadows, where the once bright Sun is bright no more, calmly drowning over the horizon and the vast winter sky is about to turn blue waiting for the dusk to take over. This night is going to be dark and long, the day being too bright. And somewhere through this wheel of time, in between these vast horizons, in between the twilight, I stand with my head held high basking in the warmth of this magnificent hour, which I refer to as The Blue hour of hope.


This is my time, my only hour and this I must use to the best of my ability to produce the musings of my grieved mind.
Never shall I stop to write, never shall I succumb to the obvious. My fight is against me. My fight is with the time that I cant hold back. My struggle is to sail through the night towards the twilight. And I do not know whether you will appreciate or condemn my words. Whether you will find it vulgar or mesmerizing, whether the words will stir your soul or give you pain of passing moment. Immortality is not what I aspire to achieve, its the hope to survive the night's long ordeal, the hope to once again feel the zephyr of the blue hour lifting my soul way beyond into the Sun...