Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Walking on Shards of Glass


Last night I dreamt that I was walking down the streets of my home town. I was balancing the memories of my years there in cupped hands as I walked on broken glass evading the flames and flying shrapnel that lined the streets....in the past months I realise that these streets have silently retreated to the boulevards of my dreams probably in fear of the pandemomium of the present.

Every SMS flashing on my mobile, news alert in my email inbox, flickering images on my TV screen informing me of the recent act of violence in the streets of Pindi cuts a small sliver of me....where I am in Australia the elders tell us that every photograph, a flash of light takes a bit of your life soul away. I wonder if all these acts of hate and terror will eventually erode me completely, there will be a blast on Rawalpindi streets and half way across the world someone will turn around and watch me crumpling into a limpid pool of my dying memories.

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