I Was Closing the Weeping Chapter

When terror strikes, fear inside you makes a hissing sound, breaks the vessel. Pain spurts out. Your limbs swell like sapphires in a naked suffering. You were searching the face of your dead brother on burning ghat. And then on, it pours. Babies were burning in incubators. Blasts devouring the eyes, ears and noses. But the dredging will continue. Irrespective of ocean of death leaping to fragile shores till the waves send back the relics. Whom shall I call for condolence in the thick of fog? I was closing the weeping chapter. SATISH VERMA