Random Numbness (April 2020)

No more Khalil ur Rehman Qamar vomiting on TV. But it doesn’t mean shit doesn’t exist anymore. It does. Only we have some other problems.

Firstly, there is this virus. Supreme Court is trying their best to control the pandemic. Forgetting that they themselves are endemic.

Then, we have this sugar crisis. Tareen’s sugar levels is high as IK – well, not IK – made the report public. Now Tareen is running here and there, looking for some Musharraf-kinda-daddy. ‘Sugar daddy’ looking for daddy. What luck!

Meanwhile Saad rafique met Pervaiz Elahi. Yes, the same ‘daaku’. In ten years, PML-Q desperately wanted to hangout with PML-N, but they were not needed before. Now political frustration has paved the way for the two ugly ducklings. This is precisely where Zia’s DNA meets Musharraf’s DNA.

And Vawda is back again. Without a boot this time. If coronavirus had a face…

Even religious scholars and mullahs are providing comedy. Yeh to ho ga. When their businesses will be closed, they will be frustrated. And in frustration, they will provide content.

Anyway, with all the fuss, comedy remained intact. IK says something. Sindh goes the other way. Punjab follows Sindh after a day or two. Then KPK follows Punjab. Then Federal endorses everything with ifs and buts. And then comes sugar and wheat report.

Government has issued vague notifications and has directed Commissioners / Deputy Commissioners to resolve the confusions. Well, the bureaucrats rarely handle straight guidelines, and here they are asked to use their minds. Embrace yourself!

There is much ado about nothing. Lockdown is here. It’s not curfew. Yes, you can open your shop. No, not you. You. I mean you, not you. Who?

But don’t blame them.

We got these laws, courts, bureaucracy and military from colonialism. Ranks and designations and hierarchies and grades are exactly the colonial way. In exactly the same offices they made during colonial era. With exactly the same mindset sucking the system.

Majority of our laws and penal codes – including 144 – are from colonial era. The exact same system is lynching the public the exact same way.

Only the elite natives replaced the gora sahibs.

That’s why our history, throughout the decades, is same. Same ink accusing the same class of the same mind.

Jalianwala Bagh before partition.
Babrra massacre after partition.

Manto wrote before and after 1947. And he wrote exactly the same stories.
Stories of atrocities.
Stories of lawlessness.
Stories of corruption.
Stories of fanaticism.
Stories of men. Men of lust.

The only difference is what he wrote as derogatory has become itself a writer with endless scripts and dramas. But we have other problems for now.

Walli – Vicious Cycle

There is pain. Then there is spiritual pain. The one you nurture so you may live spiritually. At least.

Walli’s life may be a physical tragedy, but his pain was purely spiritual. Without a doubt.

While sitting with Buddha on the hills, Walli gave him the secret. It wasn’t the hunger or abandoning your family. These are physical pains which lead to nothing spiritual.

Well, Buddha achieved enlightenment – nirvana – afterwards. Walli didn’t. Or maybe he did too, but he didn’t tell anyone. Because his was a personal journey, which was yet to be finished.

Centuries later, Walli narrated the same secret to Christ. While waiting in the death chamber, Walli revealed that physical death is temporary. Spiritual death is the real tragedy.

Walli told him to ask God for heavenly permission. In return, Walli died on the cross. No one knows it was Walli who died that day. Only to be resurrected again and again and again.

But who is Walli?

We don’t know for sure. All we know is that he had some unfinished business. In his original life, he went on to a useless war enforced by the emperor. He left his pregnant wife behind and promised her that he would return soon.

He didn’t.

His wife gave birth to a girl, while Walli got buried in an unidentified grave outside Mesopotamia after the victorious war for the emperor.

Since then, he has been helping people to complete their journeys while he himself is wandering for the reunion with his daughter.

While his journey remains incomplete, he was sure to complete the miraculous reunions of Buddha and Christ.

Anyway, can you imagine Walli being the emperor himself? From an unknown soldier to the emperor of all faiths? Well, that’s another tragedy. He had to conquer the Holy Land to complete a prediction.

That war wasn’t holy. It was personal. As he perished for his emperor back then, he too got crowned himself while thousands perished for his war. And history, which he wrote himself, calls him Commander of all Faiths.

Anyway.

These are bits of his journeys from here and there. We don’t have a complete story. But we do know the essence.

From the power of the great emperor to the powerless life of a small farmer, Wali lived through it all. He died on the battlefield without a name and had a whole kingdom named after him in his time. In all the powerful and powerless journeys, his essence remained the same.

He once lived a dervesh life too. He left his home and went far away to a small village where he lived like a hippie. He did poetry and his poetry was against the crowd. He targeted all those with power because he knew how useless this power is. The power only keeps you busy, that’s all. Useless.

He died in his late 70s. People built a tomb in his name. The tomb became a symbol of sufism for generations.

And in another later journey, Walli was singing and dancing to his own poetry in the verandah of his own tomb. Like a madman who never bathed and never prayed.

That is Walli’s cycle of life. That is everyone’s cycle of life too. Vicious. Like a snake. Eating its own tail. Forever and ever.

An Ideal Time

Have you thought at what time in history – present actually – this virus has spread throughout the world? Well, at an ideal time.

The vaccine isn’t here yet. It will take time. Best case: summer 2021. So, you have to wait.

You always cried for family time, right? So here it is!
Fasten your seatbelt. Because you aren’t going anywhere. And you won’t be able to. By the time it ends, you will have eaten up the loads of stored food and your belly would be swollen and your knees won’t be able to bear a hippo, you big fat f…

“THINGS YOU OWN END UP OWNING YOU.”

When a virus attacks, your body fights. This earth – motherland – was consistently being attacked by us, so it has retaliated. Perhaps it’s my illusionary-pessimistic-self talking. But anyway, considering your family life constant, it feels good. Doesn’t it?

When the patient starts to recover, it feels good. The mother earth is recovering. AQI index of ugliest cities are at par with cleanest cities around the world. The air we are breathing now wasn’t available for over two decades.

Petrol consumption is at its lowest. As is water consumption due to closed industries.

Other than that, crime rate has plummeted globally. How many kids have been saved from potential rape and murder incidents?

There is no war at the moment. Unbelievable, isn’t it?

All the missiles and tanks and jets are waiting for another man-made crisis. But this isn’t a man-made crisis. They aren’t needed now. They’ll be needed when duffers will reign again. And they will. Because insects are immune to…

You know this was – is – the ideal time for a novel epidemic. This is the only planet we own and look what we did to her.

We filled the waters with plastics and crude products. And dead bodies. Millions of dead bodies who became homeless in their homes and drowned while trying to find another home. Finding Neverland.

We even threw Luca Brasi and Bin Laden into the waters.

We destroyed the jungles. We established industries for mass consumption – including animals. We made leather from snakes and crocodiles.

We advertised brands made by hungry hands. We gave them enough to be steady but not enough to stand. We treated those hands in Africa and Asia as cows of dairy industry.

Class. Creed. Sect. Race. Religion. Nationality. We compartmentalized all the lower classes.

Meanwhile, the elite remained classless. Sitting in luxury offices finalizing bail-out packages for people wining and dining in yachts and mansions. Classless. People of the mosque, temple and church; all equal in the eyes of wealth.

Karl Marx said religion is an anti-depressant for struggling class. And he said it was necessary. Anti-depressants are necessary. Aren’t they?

So the virus is here. It was needed. It was time. Every era has to end.

Kingdoms ended. Colonialism perished. Fascism and totalitarianism jolted the world in world wars but were ceased after millions died. An era of liberalism emerged. The liberal half of the world saw its epitome of research and development in those years. While the other half kept on suffering at the hands of conservatism and religion-based politics. Then came the new wars. Wars based on information to target people and regions precisely.

It started with Iraq. Entered Afghanistan. Splashed countries like Libya, Syria and Yemen. Pimps suffered too: Pakistan lost its strategic position and Saudia lost its regional control. China initiated a surveillance war on Uighur. Burma did ethnic cleansing boldly, that too under a Noble Peace Laureate. India committed crimes legally, by passing vicious laws. Boris, Modi, Trump, Bolsonaro, Khan. Do you see there is something common all across the political world?

POPULISM.

Say what the crowd wants to hear.
Do what the crowd wants done.
Be it stupid. Be it cruel.

So, the virus came. It was long due.

Ah! I knew you would say that. ‘People will be jobless’. ‘There will be shortage of food’. ‘People will die’. ‘Blah blah’.

Yes. But, no.

That was all happening before. People were jobless before. There was shortage of food before. People died before. You just ignored all of it.

The only difference is, you will be jobless this time. You will face shortage of food. You will die.

But God forbid. Let’s hope for the best. We all need an anti-depressant.

Let me tell you, a new era is going to begin. Populism will go down organically. The generations eye-witnessing the current scenario, will not be conservative or orthodox as before. Countries will re-prioritize their future budgets. Science will have its due share as will healthcare. Religion will become a personal matter – as it should be – for some time to come.

And war. These tanks and missiles and jets. These decorated soldiers and their synchronized parades for emotional wellbeing of the crowd.

Well, behave yourself.

Post-Virus World Order

Un-globalization in process.

How many companies will adopt work-from-home model when this will be over? Isn’t it less costly?

How many people will re-shape their work-family balance?

Will the business and strategy books keep on teaching “globalization” like before?

Will China remain the production hub of the whole world?

Will the nations keep on buying weapons to build on arsenals or will healthcare get some light?

Will healthcare be adopted back by the government, as it was being privatized and outsourced in most of the countries?

Will there be Hajj this year?

Will secularism / liberalism see a boom or will the world keep moving towards populism / conservatism?

Will science be considered as important as orthodox beliefs?

Will the neighborhood life resume as before?

Will we have more divorces or more babies?

There are so many questions. We don’t even know how many will perish before a virus-free world sees the daylight. But who cares?

We deserve this.

First of all, this debate of science vs. religion will never end. It is as ruthless today as it was when Galileo said that the earth is a ‘globe’. One side can claim that science has failed to prevent the world from this invisible virus. And the same can be said for the other side.

Exactly same arguments can be thrown on both sides of the pole.

The question is, why is this even polarized. For me, it is exactly the same side of a single being.

Anyway,

We deserve this.

With bloods on our hand, we deserve this.

When kids were being killed in Yemen through drones, we didn’t record resistance. We took Sunni / Shia split sides. We defended our troops and blamed others.

When Afghanistan was being bombarded – with Jihad and without Jihad – we played dollar-based-politics. While counting dead bodies, we never shuddered and continued counting dollars.

When Rohingya were undergoing ethnic cleansing, the world watched it as silent spectators watching a horror movie.

When Syrian refugees were drowning in the water, we cried, wiped our tears, and went on to buy products of the same people who pointed guns at the refugees.

When kids were being raped and murdered, we were unable to make policies to tackle the situation. Now, see, kids are safe. Or maybe not?

We never thought of the consequences of our consumerism.
We never changed our lifestyle. Because we never had an ideology.
We never had conscientiousness.

We deserve this.

With arsenals rising, missiles getting bigger, drones getting smaller and jets getting swifter, poor people became poorer.

Those who were unable to be fed, were bombarded.
For narratives. Ideologies. Politics. Business. Religions.

We deserve this.

So, here we are.

I hope we will learn a lesson.
I hope it will be classless and ruthless.
I hope it will be liberal and secular in selection and conservative and fundamentalist in implementation.
As we have been for centuries.

Because, we deserve this.

And I hope and pray this virus will spare kids.
Because the next generation is the only hope this world has.

The Virus

China stopped Muslim women from wearing the veil. Now the whole country is in masks. Muslims win. The virus has globalized Hindu way of greeting – i.e. no handshakes. Hindus win. India isolated Kashmir. The whole world is isolated. Kashmiris win. Mecca is deserted. So is Vatican City. So are major temples and monasteries. Religious congregations are cancelled or postponed. Atheists / agnostics win. Science is as clueless about the virus – at least up till now – as illiterate people. Illiterates win. Developed countries should provide easy loans to developing countries. And if can’t waive off, they should minimize the loan restrictions. PTI wins. Cow urine parties in India. Thanks, we lose. And the list goes on and on. Everybody’s a winner. Everybody’s a loser. So many minds. So many logics. Anyway, the virus is here. It is as ugly as: Hunger has always been in Africa. Refugees drowning in sea water. Burma’s ethnic cleansing. Racism in America. Silencing of Kashmir. State violence in Pakistan. Hindutva in India. Kurds of Turkey. Kids in Yemen. Or ‘Chinese virus’ when it was China’s only. Nothing rings a bell until it’s our door. Our Door. Capitalists’ door. Consumers’ door. I don’t know anything technical about this virus. But I know it has been here in one form or another, as written above. Nights of Paris are no longer romantic. Northern lights in Scandinavia are no longer appealing. Beaches of Italy are no longer entertaining. Remember New York’s Time Square in Vanilla Sky? Such panic never saw daylight when millions of people were killed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Burma, Kashmir, Libya, Palestine, and Yemen. Nothing rang a bell when a picture of a dead boy in red t-shirt went viral. Nothing happened when war-implied-forced-refugees were left shelter-less in severe winters. So, apparently, this virus is kinda blessing in disguise. It is like fasting in ramzan. Feeling thirst and hunger and realizing how it feels. How it feels to be isolated. How it feels to be clueless. How it feels to be at the mercy of the state. How it feels to be seen as a danger. How it feels to be clean. How must have Yeminis felt for years when they were bombarded and killed without any help or concern? How must have Palestinians – who apparently have a monopoly in suffering – felt in decades of catastrophe? How must have Afghans felt in being here and there of the dollar-funded-violence? So, have patience. Embrace the threat. Inhale the risk. And feel how it feels to be here. At the uncertainty. Even though it is nothing compared to falling drones from the sky and going directionless when homeless. Nothing compared to being a parent of raped and murdered kid. Nothing compared to being imprisoned in a location-less facility by known unknowns. Nothing compared to blasphemy charges. Nothing compared to being silenced by the state. Nothing compared to the fear of state violence. Nothing. Empty shelves don’t concern me. What concerns me is pathetic minds and apathetic hearts. May this virus leave better humans behind for the next generation.

23rd March, Glorification & Aerobatics

When is death glorified?

When there is something fishy. Something wrong.

Doctors become doctors by their own choice. Like soldiers. Or pilots. Or engineers.

But these doctors are always on the front line. Right now they are risking their lives against corona virus. Other than that, a single random prick, which happens occasionally, can lead to HIV or Hepatitis.

These doctors have night duties. Most of them are on call. During 4-years’ FCPS training, 36-hours rosters twice a week are common. Yet no doctor is glorified. Even when they die in the ‘line of duty’. No badge of martyrdom. Because they were doing their job. And were paid. Simple.

Let us look at janitors / cleaners. They clean gutters. Our filth. There are thousands of janitors / cleaners who are working with the Government. It is said that one person dies or succumb to serious infections daily in the ‘line of duty’.

Yet there is no glorification. No allotment of plots. No badge. No martyrdom. Nothing. Because they are poor, illiterate, stinky, and doing their job. Simple.

Next come the polio teams. In the line of duty. In the line of fire. Threatened. Mocked. Killed. Yet they continue working. Without glorification.

Constructors, brick-kiln workers, engineers and managers are working all across the country. Even in dangerous regions where workers were killed consistently; thousands of them targeted based on their ethnicity. Yet, the work continued uninterrupted. It is visible. Roads, bridges and infrastructure. Without a name. Without a trace of blood. Without glorification of the deaths.

But then we have different rules for different things.

APS kids were glorified because their deaths resulted because of state’s failure. While Sahiwal incident kids cannot be glorified because they were targeted. Like raped kids. Used, abused and killed.

First of all, condolences for the dead pilot. Every life is precious. Like every F-16 is precious. Accidents can happen. Anything can happen. Cars collide. Trains derail. Planes crash. People die. It’s routine.

The problem is discrimination between the dead bodies and insult instigated on the dead bodies of some and not others. When one is flushed like a used tissue paper while other is glorified all across the country.

Just when people were supposed to ask questions like why aerobatics, why parade, what cost, etc., death was glorified. No questions. No ifs or buts. Only patriotic dumbness.

Pakistan and India are two dumb nations. But India at least has the guts to make movies like “Rang De Basanti”. These aircrafts are a source of corruption and bribery. Of millions of dollars. India has MiG and Rafale stuff. We have our very beloved F-16s.

So far, Pakistan has lost 10 F-16s. Not a single one in war. But okay, accidents happen.

What’s not okay is… that 23rd March has nothing to do with aerobics or parade.

23rd March was officially the “Republic Day” of Pakistan until it was robbed by dictatorship. It’s name was changed after democracy was jailed and the First Opposition Leader, Fatima Jinnah, was defeated and politically murdered.

But what happened in 1940 that day?

Quaid-e-Azam gave the stage to A. K. Fazlul Haq (aka Sher-e-Bangla) to present the resolution on March 23rd, 1940. He was the Chief Minister of Bengal.

The Resolution consisted of five paragraphs and each paragraph was only one sentence long. Although clumsily worded, it delivered a clear message.

The word ‘Pakistan’ was not used in the resolution and the official name of the resolution was Lahore Resolution.

It was in the Hindu newspapers including Partap, Bande Matram, Milap, Tribune etc., who ironically coined the name ‘Pakistan Resolution’. However, the idea was appreciated by the Muslim masses and the Resolution is more commonly known as Pakistan Resolution.

Lastly, the word “states” and not “state” was mentioned in the Resolution. It means that the authors of the Resolution were foreseeing two separate states in the north-western and eastern zones of India (i.e. Pakistan and Bangladesh).

Read the history of A. K. Fazlul Haq on what happened next. He went against the All India Muslim League by forming his own party but lost in 1945 elections. In 1947, he joined the League campaign to include Calcutta in Pakistan.

He became the Chief Minister of Bengal in 1952. In 1955, he was the Home Minister of Pakistan and, from 1956 to 1958, Governor of East Pakistan. He is remembered as a traitor in Pakistan even today.

Now tell me, what does 23rd March have to do with aerobatics?

Exactly!

Advertisement.
Glorification is advertisement too.
It sells. It gives you goosebumps.
And whatever sells, is business.
And we are mere consumers.
Just like Tyler Durden said…

Duffers!

Hoors, Women & #AuratMarch

No one minds when maulana sahib is delivering a khutba on ‘Hoors’. Their bodies, figures, curves, shifting from one intercourse to another, having a ‘stamina’ of 70 men and performing to eternity.

No one minds. Regardless of the venue or audience.

For men, the concept of the Hereafter revolves mostly around pretty hoors and sex.

And no one minds. Not even in mosques. Even though the khutbas ignite passion and it’s ‘hard’ to pray later on for ‘sensitive’ men.

Yet. No one minds.

But just when women claim rights to their own bodies – read ‘own bodies’ – things change. Shame emerges. The same numbed-shame, which barely yawns lazily at rapes and abuses and murders and injustices, wakes up.

When people are deaf, an explosion is necessary to make them listen. But when they are dead, nothing can wake them up. Maybe hoors. I don’t know.

Anyway. Let me give you an example. Do you know anything about Prof. Salahuddin of Gomal University? If no, then shame on you for spitting now.
If yes, then shame on you for not spitting as much as you are spitting now.

In 1998, a woman was killed in Kot Addu, Muzaffargarh, when a male member of the family found about her affair. A young girl tried to save her chachi but was also shot dead.
Two women were murdered. Male members of the family forgave each other and things were settled.

In 2019, sister of the murdered young girl had a love marriage. Her family called her home to make peace. She and her 6 month old son, were shot dead. The husband forgave the family and things were settled.

Maybe it would be news for you but incestuous relationships are quite common in waderas and jageers of South Punjab and Sindh, where women are nothing more than wombs.

I can go on and on and on to tell you where women have suffered even after marrying, while men have roamed free even after rapes and murders.

But you don’t mind. Because perhaps, you don’t have one.

Tackle your hypocrisy before teaching religion. Religion isn’t a buffet where you can pick what you want and leave what you don’t like.

Let them speak. Let them share what they have gone through. Debate, if you disagree. But don’t create hurdles.

Don’t play the religion card.

Not here.

Not with me!

Aurat March

Khalil ur Rehman Qamar is one good reason that Aurat March should be organized. Everywhere. In every single city of this country.

This ugly mentality, the uglier use of words and the ugliest hatred towards the opposite gender, should be dealt with a no tolerance stance.

This society never came out with banners against child abuse. Never organized any rally / event to put things into place. Most of the rapists and abusers walk free while the abused and raped ones are shamed forever.

Those who never ever shuddered about kids being raped in mosques and madrassas, are suddenly terrified that their religion is in danger. Because of women. Women?

I don’t know when Kids’ Day will see light and the “slogans” will jolt the men of religion again.

This religion was never in danger. Only it’s male followers have been. Who ridiculed it. Made fun of it. Used it for power. Used it for money. Used it for influence. And used it to go free with blood on their hands. Men. Always have been men.

There should be victims’ day. Separate day for separate victims. Victims of rape. Victims of child-molestation. Victims of violence. Victims of blasphemy. Victims of judiciary. Victims of religion.

I am not a fan of Marvi Sermad. Not in agreement with all kind of slogans. Not in favor of those who take the limelight for personal interests. But if something is not igniting violence or discrimination, then freedom of speech / expression should stand.

“I Disapprove of What You Say, But I Will Defend to the Death Your Right to Say It.”

Sharing an old post:

You know ladies! You should be proud that you are not men. You should be happy that you don’t have this mardana kamzori, where you have to grab, re-position and aim your little circumcised brain every 5 seconds in public.

He used to teach numerous kids. He was not gay. That’s haram. But that day he couldn’t control himself. He did not allow a kid to go home until the lesson was learnt. The lesson was learnt a little before 8 pm, with blood dripping from his back. A little erection, which couldn’t satisfy his wife ever, destroyed a life forever.
May God never have mercy on us.
Amen!

Patriotism, Patriarchy & Our TV

The drama was all about army and cadets and parades and stuff. But it will end with PAF’s victorius stunt. What else is there to show? “Narowal sector me bharboor jawabi karwai!”

Hamayun Saeed will play Major Ram’s character. After all he’s our “do takkay ka” Shahrukh Khan. Wish Sahir Lodhi could have been opted for instead.

In a scene, Abhinandan will utter, “Tea is fantastic… as it was in 71”. This will piss Hamayun Saeed and he’ll shout, “Talk about the present, Abhinandan.” And Abhinandan will reply, “Ok! Tea is as fantastic as it is in Kashmir.”

Long story short, Abhinandan will go free and will become duffers’ hero on the other side of the dufferism i.e. India. While here, we will utter “fantastic” in a loop.

The protagonist will embrace martyrdom in an operation. This will give you goosebumps and teary eyes. You will feel patriotism running through your veins; numbing your brain.

Finally, trash will be off-air.

If “Mere Pas Tum Ho” can qualify for cinema screen, then the standard here is already set. No surprise.

Both these dramas would have collapsed in under 2 minutes in front of Asma Jahangir. But that’s another thing.

I think no other two countries would have suffered that much because of blind patriotism as Pakistan and India have. The border only divides the two huge crowds. Always ready for war and blood and missiles; meanwhile dying of hunger, thirst, illiteracy, crime and corruption.

Fighting in cricket. Fighting on poor-sectors of the border (never heard of “gola bari” at Lahore’s DHA sector near the border). Keeping the war business alive.

And media business too. Easier than war – provoking the same insights.

P.S. I watched “Once upon a time… in Hollywood”. It’s fantastic.

She. H! Scented. Unnamed.

When do you stop taking your chances? Well, there are no chances. You try and you exhaust yourself for nothing.

She was a blonde. No, not a real blonde. Dyed blonde. Blue lens. Cleft chin. Little mascara. Neatly manicured. Glossed lips. And silken voice. No, he didn’t notice these details until she left.

By the way it’s ‘blond’ for guys and ‘blonde’ for girls.

Anyway, there are over 7 billion people on earth. 3.5 billion is the opposite gender. Of those 3.5 billion, you get to know and meet around 500. Of those 500, 400 won’t either consider you or you won’t consider them. Of the 100, you won’t think of 80 as a long-term partner. This leaves you with 20. You get your fling, settle with one, and that’s ‘I love you’.

‘I love you too.’

Or, you get this done through a matrimonial service. Dreaming to make fairy-tales come true with a complete random stranger.

Apart from that, you get your chance of love with only living humans. Not from Roman era, or medieval times, or renaissance. I know it’s scary to think but I’m trying to make a point. You don’t choose time. Or anything. You think you choose, but you don’t. No one chooses here. No one chooses you. You don’t choose anyone.

It’s an algorithm, based on possible chances, with your vested interests in mind, infatuation, and bingo… you are married. A step away from divorce.

Chances of divorce are zero if you don’t get married. But you do.
Chances of domestic abuse and psychological torture are zero if you don’t succumb to “settling down”. But you do.
Chances of seeing your love story ripped apart are rare if you leave on time. But you don’t.

Only half fulfilled loves stories are forever. They are worth imagining and re-living. Because they don’t see their eventual demise, and you can dream about them anyway you want to.

And here comes the woman with the cleft chin.

She was in love with an idea of someone ideal. An image. But she fell in love with someone not-ideal. So, she used her imaginative powers and imagined him ideally. She thought about him as she wanted to.

She built her love story around lies. She lied about her name, her city, her everything. So as to build a love story in accordance with her ideal idea of a love story.

That guy knew nothing real about her, except her cleft chin… with her hair dyed, eyes lensed, lips glossed and mascara; cleft chin was the only real her he knew.

She was so afraid of the world and its eyes and its questions that she camouflaged herself in her own manipulated love story.

So what? Her love was real. Her idea was real. Her manipulations for love were real too. She was the one who chose him. She actually exercised the ‘choosing’, unlike the rest of the world which only have an illusion of choosing.

A dimple on chin. A devil within.

And then, she left. She gathered enough memories to have an imagination forever. She gathered enough words from him to imagine his voice for the rest of her life. She chose him. She left him. She disappeared from his life without a warning. She left before the question of ‘forever together’ or death of the whole affair.

Because she knew that only half fulfilled love stories are forever.

He for her. Forever.