Seething anger coursed through my veins, and fury like lava boiled my blood. An acrid smoke of hatred clouded my mind, and a darkness cold as ice shrouded my heart. Hiding my purpose, and freezing my will, to the point where it iced in to a lifeless stone of guilt and hurt, of rage and anger. Getting colder and colder, to such an extent that it seemed to have shattered into a thousand pieces of a mirror like reality. Each jagged mirror reflected a broken certainty. Sharper than the other, every shard pierced my firm and strong believes. Cutting deeper and deeper, till I was lying bare and bleeding, under the harsh glare of an ugliness, posing to be the truth. The only garb I wore was of a heavy silence, laced with fear and agony of a strange confusion. Words, like knives stabbed again and again until my faith was reduced to an empty shell; and the silence was ringing with their echoes and my silent screams of frustration: Ensuing a battle with in my very soul. A battle between beliefs and ideas, of shifting loyalties and changing identities.
They said, “One day, your optimism will be your doom.” “Lessen your positivity or you’ll experience pain beyond imagination”. Another echo said, “There’s a cut throat world outside, how would your ideals protect you from their blood-lust?” “My views are only an anchor to sanity. The actual strength lies in His omnipotence, His love for me. It will guide me and protect me from all that you say is out there, waiting to harm me.” Murmured; a small, reluctant voice. “But is it my faith that strengthens me? Am I that faithful a servant to my Lord?” I heard the same voice questioning in confusion. “Bhai your faith is admirable. You have changed my life and of many others.” declared, another echo. “If He loved us so much, why did he suffer people to die in His own house?” “Why did He let children to be slaughtered like sheep in A.P.S?” questioned, other bitter memories. “Every why, has an answer.” replied, a sure but in-confident voice. “But Am I strong enough to deliver them to all?” asked the same voice with some reluctance. Then said in some what a brittle tone, “Yes I am, for I am a soldier who was trained for this from the age of 8.” “No you’re not. You are a liar and a cheat. Who not only lies to himself but deceives others too, by presenting his life as a fairy tale.” Negated; a hard, steely whisper. “Whatever I say is true, isn’t it?” defended, a wounded conscience. “No it’s not. What about those promises you made to your family about not getting mad with anger anymore and losing your temper with people?” returned, the same malevolent whisper. “Sir I trusted your word and you broke it. ” surfaced, another memory. “People are not as honorable as you want or perceive them to be.” continued, the lifeless tone. “Such marriages aren’t allowed in Pakistan.” Proved, another insulting memory. “They lose their childish innocence when they reach maturity.” said, a bitter thought. “Talha being distrustful of others is a part of maturity.” explained, a hurtful recollection. “Is it?” inquired a weak, pained voice. “Yes it is. You trusted the childhood image of your friend. And what became of it? He disgraced himself and your name. Putting at stake your bond with one of the most sincere friends you ever had.” hissed, the soft, sinister whispers. “Nothing was put at stake. She knows that.” “Only because she has a generous heart.” debated, a feverish and forlorn heart. “And even that was doubtful of your ability to keep in check your temper while dealing with him.” reminded, the silently slithering whispers. “Please don’t talk to him. Because if you do, I will be embarrassed.in fact, more than embarrassed.” slashed another echoing memory. “My tongue is the only weapon I have, and it too has misfired again and again.” yielded, a weary soul. “Yes it has. It’s better if you stop using it and leave everyone in peace. Face it. You are nothing more than a burden on everyone you meet. Your family and friends, your bus mates, who would have their eyes blinded, before they lower their gazes from girls, who themselves aren’t interested in guarding their modesty. What can you do for them or about them? Nothing. For as is believed, your people have gone far ahead of you. Your views and principles aren’t meant to survive. If you can’t change them, learn to live in isolation and to shun the company of those you love and who love you. For you don’t have anything to give them in return. Above all you are a thankless soul and so a servant who has displeased his Lord.” advised, a calm, cold shadow of a voice.
“Enough!” Thundered a strong, familiar voice, and all the echoes shrank to mere murmurs except for a quiet drip, drip, of my unwanted tears; singing a sad soothing lullaby, to pacify that aching solitude.
