Vistas of red, central to the heart of the Capital. Walls painted red with dreams drenched in dirth. Walls painted black with kohl eyes of 4yr olds clinging to their mothers waists while fleding their homes. Home or house? May be nothing but four walls of impermanence, of loss, of people fleding like makeshift graves. What remains after?
Walls of all kinds colours, too high to climb, too small but still existing, Walls that we take everywhere with our selves, Walls that makes us feel secured in our own world. Walls that keep strangers at bay. Walls that stand tall makes us even more stranger to ourselves. Walls that exist for no reason but simply because we needed them at some point so they end up in our life.
People often rant about baggage that comes with relationships but I've never heard anyone of them lamenting about the weight of these walls their shoulders carry, throughout their lives, Strange folks with much Stanger selves.
Anyways, there was wall behind a wall. Wall that hides our faces. Walls that you are shown in the nane of system. Walls that hides secrets behind them. Walls that lets you see only the distorted facts while the rest, you shall never ever see. Walls that they wish to paint in one colour and make you believe that the land is ruled not by humans but few phantom-like- gods. God's that soon wither away! Gods of the majority.
So what's left behind are dead walls. Walls that are built to widen our reach between you and I. Walls that are meant to divide, your opinions from your intellect, walls that blurs the difference between fanaticism and bigotry. Wall that hides real intentions. Walls that makes us less humane.
Walls that stops us from taking a stand for one another. Wall that just confines you from doing what you should do. Walls that do no good but make you believe like the elephant tied by a weak chain, too scared to break it though the chain was nothing but a mere rope for the giant.
Walls that emerge long before you had a vision, to see your country at it's peak but drifts you away in false beliefs and self proclaimed godly incarnations. Walls that never lets you listen what you should listen. You see & hear what you're conditioned to do. Even your five senses aren't yours anymore.
They makes you feel safe behind walls while you peacefully sip your hot tea while a majoritarian calls for mad mobs on television during elections, you see journalists tied to a cot in prison for speaking up for girl succumbing to brutal assault.
These walls makes you feel cozy while the daughters are battling the horrors unleashed by those monsters, each day on a silent street. These are walls which resemble the doors of hell. No? Walls that are being raised higher, with each passing day. Walls that continue to exist as a witness of your dead silence. May be these walls are dead but what about your conscience?
