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The Dead Zone


Science class was  on. No doubt I was supposed to be attentive just like the rest of the class. But one thing I never understood is why do all these ideas(or whatever you like to call them) pop up during these classes…The rest is just a part of a  scribbling on the unused corner of my science book…and when I put all together, it left me wondering about all those metaphors I have used ….but anyway I liked the piece.

Look beyond those symbols I used, afterall it is (was) just another scribbling…

The Dead Zone

BLOOD and Scream…..blood and scream….and limbs of unknown Human beings stacked one upon another- so ruthlessly.Heap of concretes, piles of ashes and blood. More blood. More screams.

Two insomniac eyes. Transfixed. Visions started to blur.  A mixture of Agony and Anger, opening an aisle to the abyss. A window to the Inferno  Shadows engulf the moon. A child trapped between Life and Death . Cursing every moment in this godforsaken world, it cries. It feels so near, yet so far.       Two Vultures…too high above earth….a thin curve of smile appears on their cunning faces. Every moment of opportunity equally magical – knowing this they give the wicked dive.A mad rivalry begins. An everlasting hunger for blood, more blood. A fog of gunpowder fills the air.

Visions blurred. The place – which once they called the Paradise, fresh with the fragrance of lives a moment ago, now just an ashtray- a Wasteland- a Nothing. Deformed limbs of soldiers rotting in the darkness. A maddening scream and a pool of blood, a women unsurfaced from the bottomless pit.The first air of Life fills her veins- after 15 long nights in the abyss, where each night is another trip to Hell, each moment another step closer to the eternal silence. She senses a frail sunlight,but cant feel it. She feels – Nothing.

Blood and scream…Far away a siren cries, so weak as if from another distant world. Two half-dead eyes, a sarcastic look. 

Now she feels something- a detest for Life, an insane hatred towards the ‘Fate’- which so mercilessly thrashed her. Like an insect. Nothing more. A soulless world.She loathes everything ever happened in her worthless LIFE—Life??!!… is it worth calling it life??….too cheap ….too forgettable. 

Visions burred. Again, a flood of light. A pack of mindless wolves, clad in silk suits and polished shoes. So proud yet so lifeless. the kings of today , the Judas of tomorrow.A brightly lit conference room. Filled with smokes of hypocrisy and the sweet aroma of lies….too luminous yet too unreal …. A round of lies followed by a round chuckles. They chant together in rhythms —                                “The numbers matter-not the lives; the market cries; forget the humans who died”  

But cynical me, perplexes and hear– “Those are pearls that were his eyes”.  (WASTELAND:Eliot)

Soulless creatures rise from this wasteland. Neither living nor dead. In a million years they bled once. It is Black- the colour of their toxic blood. And we drink it- together. Homage to the Beast. Visions blurred. Once again. Fragments of images , as if parts of a zigsaw puzzle, forms a muddled picture.

Tick- tock……tick -tock……I hear once again, the clock crying in distress. With some thudding neurons, where a steam of despair has clotted, I turn off the television.Leaving an untidy room and a stockpile of leftovers behind, I make it to the balcony. It is a dark world out there. Where demons reign. Shadows engulf the moon. For a few countable minutes-I feel a wind whoosh past me. Reminding me, perhaps warning me-                                                                                               “It might be a long night, another dead winter , but still you’re quite a distant from the dead zone….merely a transfixed observer….never will you feel the agony….never in the same way…never…”                                                                                           

The ravenous skeptic inside my head violently explodes!!!


in the land of demons: a window into Bangladesh

Colour_1111http:// most of us have  erased that part of our memory where we watched, eyes glued to the tv,  someone in the wrong place in the wrong time had to pay by his life.

I was talking about the boy called Bishajit. That was another reminder from our dear politicians and their loyal disciples, how mush inhumane they can be. Welcome to our hate generating politics.

Bishajit was someone far from your world of demons. He had a shop to run , a mother to take care, and maybe even a girl he was preparing to spend the rest of his lifetime with. But you stopped the clock ticking. You showed us how much we have sacrificed our humanity. And the police – you really made a great audience.

But it doesn’t really matter , as long as he is not your son or your brother. You can have a good night sleep.

Bad luck, Bishajit, cause you were born in this country. Don’t you see, we don’t bother about some random citizen, all we care about is –my family , my home and me. Yes, we are selfish. We don’t value the life of others. But you made a day for the  media , the newspapers, the politicians. But you should know something- someone from any corner of the country had shed tears for you. And the truth is that- we are really coward. Feeling sorry and shedding tears is the  best we could do. Forgive us cause we couldn’t save you, we couldn’t let you live. Maybe we will never be forgiven. If we had enough guts we could have saved you, but you know how coward we are. You had lived in the land of demons.

Today we are used to this violent politics. This seems to be part of our tradition. We don’t bother to change it. We don’t respect human lives, we don’t care about human rights and humanity is something we have forsaken. No matter who the government is, our political scenario doesn’t change much. We had a Bishajit today tomorrow we will have another. We just love all these violence and haterd.  Its like a drug that we cant quit. And it seems useless talking about all these. After the end of the day we are what we were yesterday.

Attila Ovari

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