Fear. Faith. Choice.

 I am standing on one side of the road, staring at a young woman, who is standing on the other end. My stare was frequently interrupted by the heavy traffic separating us. So all I could get was fleeting glimpses in the tiny intervals that office hour traffic could afford.  She looked distracted, lost in another world. Yet halfway lost, focused enough to wait for the right time to cross the road. I kept wondering about her thoughts, trying to imagine the world she was lost in. It was like grasping tiny pieces of a torn letter and making an effort to glue them up again.  That was the connection we shared for some moments. Unaware of each other’s thoughts yet aware of each other’s stares, each of us waiting for the right time to cross the road.  Next moment, I find her lying on the roadside bleeding. What just happened? I try to rewind back the time in my head, making every effort to slow down the previous moments to comprehend how she ended up there dying. I c...

I am looking through a tainted window Trying to see things as they are Trying to see myself as I am. The cook keeps talking of her life at home “A drunk husband is my gift from life A mark of that gift colours my scars  Day and night, I am reminded of life” The chauffeur keeps talking of his wishes and wants What ifs and what if nots “Wish I was rich, then the world could be mine I could drive the world, the way I want Crash down anyone who comes my way  Help the poor, help the needy  Stain my hands with the blood of the greedy” The literates keep talking of politics and philosophy  “This is right and that is wrong He is cunning and he is a fool  We know the best, vote for the best  We know what’s good for the world, yet we know not the world” The prisoner keeps talking of guilt and innocence “The police was bought, I say  Money brought me here  Behind bars, without sunlight  Yet I feel ...