BLAME GAME

By BASRAH HASAN RIZVI

I sit restless in the balcony as snippets of life flashes right before my retina. Mind your mettle. I heard them saying in a haughty way which implied they wanted me to be fragile eventually.

Why am I writing this, you ask? I’ve no idea, I ought to carefully rectify the wrongdoer without having share the common notion, but Oh dear! You possibly can’t clean dirt without getting an amount of dust on your collars.

For over years I’ve heard them negotiating. No mutual consent, but deals over deals. ‘I know your secrets’.

‘And I, your weakness’. Choose for yourself!

This filthy conundrums had made me return to my original state of when I didn’t trust a word they said!

Talking in circles while stabbing in linear path, I became cognizant of each of their bait and tricks.

Thinking that they control the world, seldom had I ever heard them apologize leave alone taking responsibility of their actions.

‘ADD A DIALOGUE’, for I’ve grown weary of justifying for their witty plays.

And mind it when I write in simpler words only to make it easier for them to understand for embellished words wonting to exaggeration are as useless as bells ringing to deaf.

I’ve started cornering each words they ever told, in my medulla for I can’t bear them rampaging my cerebrum.

What’s more to it is the unapologetic face which shows no consent however.

Yh to duniya ka nizaam hai sahab, chor chori bhi krta hai aur karwaahi bhi.

By BASRAH HASAN RIZVI