Monday, March 31, 2014

Does pain matter?

Rub,red hot chillies & salt
direct on my eyes, naked
tears, colourless, will pour
Yet, I would not weep from pain

Put, nasty maggots
deep on my wounds, unhealed
fluid yellowish & puss will drain
Yet, I would not chase the flies

Slit, the hot pulsing thing
with a blade unsharpened,
Blood, deep crimson, will pop
Yet, I would not beg for breath

Shut, the gates of your heart
Lock, the kiss of your lips
Wipe, the rainbow of your gaze
Do you think I would not die?

By Jahooli Devi

Love needs Care forever

Some people believe love is happening for no reason  between two people. It just happens and there is no exact reason or definition for that. Is that the way you think?

Yes…above conclusion may be very true at the very beginning of a love affair. It’s because at the first sight, we feel love just the for first impression. That’s the attraction. It happens automatically. But this feeling may last just for few months.

As time passes by, we get to know each other better and this understanding will be the key for perfect long term love affair. In that case, to keep this wonderful love alive, we need to show real concerns for sure. In short, we need to invest on love! How to do it?
Time may destroy gradually the feelings of Care, Love and Concern even in the best of relationships. Sometimes, people stop doing the easy nice little things they used to do for each other because they're too tired or they start to wait for the other person to do something nice.
For example : 

He used to bring me flowers, but not any more !
She used to cook me nice food, but not any more!

People like to dwell in the past thinking what other USED to do than try to do something in the present. That is the main problem.

Eventually, they feel taken for granted, and they start to feel lonely & frustrated.

Many people think that love should not require any effort. But the truth is, love requires regular refinement of basic relationship skills. Skills such as listening with understanding, expressing feelings with kindness and resolving conflict without lapsing into criticism. Couples use these relationship enhancement skills generously in the early stages of their relationship. Over time, however, people stop using their skills and rely more and more with increasing resentment on the hope of getting what they want. They stop doing what they gladly did at the beginning.

Some people think, “If I have to work so hard in love, something must be wrong with the relationship” or “Isn't love supposed to be spontaneous?” " Should I be the one saving this relationship? "

Never think in that way. It surely needs care and concern from both parties. Otherwise one day, your place in the relationship, may be taken by another person forever.

Do not wait till that moment!

By Manu Fernando

Love-Hate Cake

I loved him for love's sake
Coz I could not find a name sake
I wanted to care him for God's sake
So to please him I baked a Cake 

Cakes are what, just flour & sugar
Mixed in a hurry , with some butter
Added this & that, I did batter
As the eyes glitter when butterflies flutter

Came Lord for tea, gave him my love
As pure as the white innocent dove
Alas, he removed his tight black glove
Showed the wedding ring & gave me a shove 

Oh, my heart beat fast
at the refusal of my beloved's heart
Yet,I cut the Cake like a lady so smart
mixed the grains poisoned with Black Art

Aye, he ate like a pig, thanking the treat
all forgetting the terrible cheat
He fell in a flash in front of my feet
I cooked his meat to celebrate my Feat

By Jahooli Devi

Smart Phones can ruin your Love!

Are you spending too much  time with your Smart phone or Laptop, rather than spending enough time with your partner ? Are you in Love with the Smart Phone or with your Partner? 

It’s true that technology is used to connect people and the communication has become easier. « We are connected » that is the attractive slogan we are after these days. But at the same time, « Are we connected ? » Because, technology may disconnect you from your beloveds & will be the reason behind your problems & eventually these Smart phones can have negative effects on your close relationships. 

When you have a Smartphone or Tab , you are always connected to the outside world and apparently you don’t have any private time for your own things. Specially, when you are with your partner, if that phone rings or gets an alert, definitely, your mind and body detach from your partner for a while. Sometime, this happen when you are discussing a critical event of your life.

Further, I have observed some couples, when they are together, one person is using the smartphone to play games or while the other chat with other friends. So, the point that I want to make here is, that smart phones, tablets can distract your attention from the present moment and it's not good for a healthy relationship at all. Moreover, according to the researches at the University of Essex, couples who engage in private discussions with a smart phone while they are together, are presenting lower relationship qualities and lower attention or concern, for their partners. It does not sound so smart !  

What is the other main reason which effect to a relationship from a smartphone? We know that we all can be connected to social medias through the mobiles phones. It means, we are always in touch with our friends. Sometimes, there are can be Ex-Partners among these friends, co-workers or some special friends. When you make close contacts with each and every day with them,  you may easily lead your mind to them rather than your actual partner ! Actually this happens unconsciously. Things will be worst, when you get a bad situation with your loved one because rather than you try to sort the problem with your partner, you may criticize your partner with them. So, it will lead to another problem.

Because of all the above reasons, Smart Phones or Tabs may lead to a  unhealthy relationship with your partner, upon its misusing.

Actually this  does not mean, you must put your smart phone to the ditch, specially when you need it for your day today work. 

So, here are some tips to use technology wisely, and to make a better relationship. 
  • Just set it aside. When you are on a date, it’s better to switch off your phone, or you can put it in to your bag, or a pocket on silent mode. Think , it is not the end of the world  if you can't check your e-mails or social media updates for two or three hours. 
  • Switch off your phone at night time. It will make your mind relax too, rather than hearing any rings or alerts sounds when you are making love with your partner.
  • Use social media wisely. Try not to express your private thoughts and everything on social medias. I know that, there are lots of people, giving impressions to the other that they are lonely, still they have a good partner. So, it will definitely attract others attention to you, specially, if you are a girl. Never keep close connection with your ex, on social medias. But, if you really need to connect with your partner on line always, with the privacy and without disturbing from others, use or those programs will allow you to have more privacy with your photos and stories away from the curious eyes from the others. 
  •  Make a sexy connection. You could use the Smartphone technology to add some spice to foreplay. As an example, you can send a sexy voice massage or you can say some sexy, fantasy story that you want to share or do with your partner for the next evening or on next holiday.
Please keep in mind that smart phones and other technology gadgets may give real negative impacts for your relationship. But using them wisely you can improve your relationship and you can start to feel more connected to your partner than ever.

Simply, be Smart !

By Manu Fernando

I am all open for you

While beggars queuing up 
with bunch of roses
begging for a body 
that would decay one day
I need 
one dark red rose from you
that ugly dark red rose 
yet, so mysterious
to live eternally...
I am thirsty for your love
Ah! can not resist this thirst.
I need
dark dark blood comes out 
from your heart
to create the orgasmic fountain of passion
to quench my soul...
I said I need, I don't want
Words, I am ashamed
for their incapacity 
for their selfish lackness
to express what I have for you...
Knowing it would not come to me 
I run towards you 
at the speed of a galloping horse,
to kiss your pink lips,
suck your tongue
Just to feel the the breath 
stored in your lungs...

I need your sex planted 
like a knife in my body
slitting  my organs little by little 
internal bleeding, I love the pain
I want you to climb up, so up inside me
slowly, slowly, slowly
till I feel full, till I cannot breath
your sex swirling around deep inside me
like a cyclone at its climax...
You opened up my new heart
just below there
Breaking in to my virginity 
that never existed!
I just wanted to say
Mon amour 
I am all open for you.

By Jahooli Devi

To My Love

You are the Melon & Cacahuète,
flavours contrasting
stored in the deep corners
in the ice cream shop
which I devour greedily & hastily

You are the cold side
of my pillow
smooth & gentle
which my young shrivelled hands 
search for comfort
later on at night, the small feet

You are the colourless drops that fills
in the corners of my eyes
for no reason
when the heart is empty
when the mind goes astray
which I smell
to find its name
but not daring
to taste...

You are the polite man
with diamond eyes
rosy lips, cheeks, nose & ears
who sat infront of me
wearing a blue pull over
at the small restaurant of Cerises sur le Gateau
where I ate from my eyes, widely opened
as the mouth kept jabbering

I love you like a Man
with the courage of the heart
with flowers on the hand
running across the city
to catch last minute trains
just to sit by the side, silently....

I love you like a Child,
with a fragile soft heart
pointing at the toy cart
dancing around, ruthlessly
screaming violently
just to get attention, cunningly...

I love you like a Mother
with the caring of the heart
gazing in to far far horizon
waiting patiently with deep tight sighs
till the arrival of her beloved son,
just to give a hug, dearly...

By Jahooli Devi

A Cliché

She loved him dearly

As she loved all the others
with the innocence of the heart
beam on the lips
gleam in the eyes...

She waited for him, too
To bring the Red roses
as she waited for the others
carrying an empty broken vase
in her withered palms...

She wrote sweet verses
to all those unpoetic souls
wearing her heart on the sleeve
pouring in to paper
till she went inkless...

As promised fondly
He also ignored
She listened, triumphantly
Too much love will kill you
Yawned,went to bed tranquilly...

By Jahooli Devi

The Princess & the Frog

Dentrobate Tinctorius,
Why don't I
give you the famous kiss
& transform you in to a Prince
Like many princesses try to do? 
Because , I am not a princess
Just a Niyagala creeping around you.

When lethality meets lethality
like the flames embrace the flames
with euphoric open arms
on their delirious path to 
false perfection,
Should I force you
to wear Royal clothes
& make yourself a jester, too?

By Jahooli Devi

Haunted by love

He knows that I am there, waiting for him, patiently & insanely. 

He knows that I will arrive on time to welcome him. 

He knows that he has impressed me enough. 

He knows that he does not have to bother anymore. 

He went away confidently, this time...

Because, I am haunted by his soul, possessed by his charm, bewitched by his words & hypnotised by his beauty.

I am haunted by the ghost of  this living man who is absent now, who is far away at the moment. I can't find any other word than haunted, because from the moment I wake up, till the moment I sleep ( If I really sleep ) even during my sleep I can not think of anyone else but him & I am always in a deep conversation with him, bath room, toilet , kitchen, bus stop, bus 220, bus 8, library, corridors, lecture halls, parks, supermarkets, fountains, lakes, mountains everywhere I go, I carry him within me, rather his ghost follows me, I don't know my blurred mind is incapable of explaining. I have told him all the impressive things before I go to bed, in the whole wide world even though my whole wide world is very limited. I have told him about my life during those silent conversations, my childhood, every step of my life, even though I don't like the word conversation where two people are actively engaged, he is just there in front of me, that is what matters, but he is not that far to be in front, he is close or he is actually inside me, so when I talk he hears clearly, he does not miss anything because when I really talk lips cheat me, words come out arrogantly, violently betraying my thoughts, from my naturally split tongue. 

He has haunted me because at night I wake up suddenly feeling someone living inside my body, a feeling of someone entering to my body & I moan in a sweet pain, my breath accelerating during those haunted moments of exhilaration. Then he is all over my face during those musing nights, my nose sensitive to his smell, Rose masqué or Sandalwood as I believe, is in a constant battle to fill the lungs as much as it can, my eyes sensitive to his gaze, is in a great hurry to stock the images inside the head, my mouth sensitive to his words devour hurriedly large quantities of them inside myself, my ears sensitive to his sound, all erected towards him to record as much as I can, my mind picks, gathers, stocks, saves, compiles, assembles, accumulates, flocks images of him, to be consumed during his long absence. When people run towards super markets in real life for fearing a shortage of food, I take part willingly in this dream marrathon to run towards those images, catch ,condense , pickle them for rainy days.

Sometimes, I wake up from nightmares where he whispers to my ear in a honeyed, soft voice that he wants a divorce, like in an American film. He pronounces those words with such a confidence & a serenity like the day he first pronounced that I will need him more & more. Divorce, it made me start even in my sleep. But, I just smile at him from the corners of my mouth at such a request, with so much of grace, all nodding. Go ahead, I say, bravely. I wonder in my sleep whether I should cry, but no tears appearing, I continue to look at his darling face, rather darling nose , oh no darling eyes  they shine as always, they say he wants a divorce that he is tired of me!  How can I refuse that to my darling man? How can I ever hurt him by my hand cuffs of selfish love. If he wants another love , I should let him go, I should not shed a cruel, deceitful tear to keep him, to prison him, make him suffer & miserable. Go my love, find another, be happy. But then again in my sleep, I get the comfort that we are still lovers, never even thought of a marriage, so how can a divorce is possible? 

During the day, I am all paralysed, I sigh at my plight which carries me in its uncomfortable wheel chair of love of the man who haunts me every night. I have mixed up past, present & future. Days are just long, calendars have lost its value, the time has become a curse. I seek him, while daydreaming, fantasize endelessly on him, indulge in those hallucinations with greatest desire in every second, every minute, every hour not leaving any lapse in time.  

Yet, he is absent as always, only his ghost remains within me.
Yet, I am focused, the month of March, his arrival. 
I know one thing for sure, my life begins in March and it ends too...

By Jahooli Devi

Murdered for Love හෙවත් අනිච්ඡාවත සංකාරා

A woman was killed in my neighborhood in 2011, because of Love!
I saw it with my own eyes as the many who were around.

Millions of women are getting killed everywhere in the world but, is this story a different one ?

Death is such a banal subject because everyone who is born must die and the death happens in many ways. How boring is to die at the age of 99, surrounded by the lollipop sucking great grand children  who always wished your death so that they can have nice family get together in the name of a funeral! It has ceased to shock me, the death after I saw her being killed. Natural death and being killed by someone else are two different things. Murdered. Murdered for no reason. Murdered to shock the others. Murdered to murder the sensitive living beings. I saw it, this murder, that is why I am telling you all again & again, now I can't erase the memory.

When you see something it remains inside you forever, it tattoos in your brain cells, bad pictures, dirty pictures, especially. That is why, I envy the blind because they see the world in pitch black like the darkest night of Amawaka and they believe beautiful, multicolour things exist outside their deformed eyes. I just want to whisper to their ears, stay blind ! You can hear from one ear and then forget it from the other ear, you can smell from the nose and then exhale in the next breath, short-lived pleasures , the mouth, doesn't have any value at all except for your constant need to jabber. Eyes, they grab the image, they store it and then they constantly torture you until you find a way to release it. That was what happened to me, when the murder took place, I could not believe my eyes ! 

I am taking some time, to introduce my heroine, oh, I am sorry she can't be a heroine if she was killed, rather a tragic heroine, because they taught us at the university we should wait to introduce the characters & we should not introduce them directly at any cost because it would kill the story. So, if you are impatient to know her name, why she was killed you will have to wait because I am writing a short story, it is not a storytelling for kids, this is a serious work, so as my theme, Death.

No one asked me to write about her, but when I saw her dying, when her breath went out on the air, I was determined to myself that I should write about her. I thought it would make a great story one day if I was able to write it down in English or in French, so that the Members of the book clubs will read it enthusiastically ; the tragedies happening in the Third world, while having their tea. Now you are curious, I know because I did not tell the country, again I don't have a right to tell everything in a story they would call it a description , they would say it is too direct. I am sorry, I will introduce the setting later. Promise, it is just that you have to be bit patient when it comes to Literature. Now the ladies who read this would cry if they are sensitive enough, I am planning to have a business partnership with a tissue company as well. But I am not sure whether this is a tear jerker or the greatest tragedy ever written, I can not assure you the tears, therefore at least keep an onion with you, to cut, to tears to appear. Gentlemen will start to look at the literary aspects of the story, try to find a story line or themes and make a hell out of it, I would indeed be glad !

I can call her Prema although I can't remember her name properly , now I can't telephone Amma to verify whether she is Prema, Ramya or Seetha. Names are just names. They don't carry any meaning even though we were supposed to have a name with a meaning at birth according to the astrology. All the fathers in this exotic island run to the astrologer with the birth time of the baby to find the auspicious letters to name the baby. It reminds me the famous sinhala song :

Pin malu wale Kusalhami malu baanwa
Sil aran awith Seelawthi makuno maranwa
Dhanapala unath miniha maha paree hinganwa
mama ahala nene Sathyapala aththa kiyanawa

Mr. Kusalhami alias The Good Karma fishing in the lake
Mrs. Seelawathi alais The Pious observes Sil & then come home to kill Bedbugs
The one whose name is Mr. Dhanapala, the Richest is begging on the Road
I have never heard Mr. Sathyapala , alias The Truth who speak a single word of truth !

Prema means Love, you can add nuances to the name Premawathi, Premani, Prem Leela. Well, that's her name Prema.

Now, I am supposed to create a bit of atmosphere because death does not take in a banal way, it should be dramatised, you know like in films, it is indeed an entertainment. But , the set was not well defined so was the cast , it was just a random thing. She screamed like a … I don't know. She screamed for help guessing perfectly what was on her way : The Death.

She screamed 

 « Budu Ammooo, Bera Ganiyoo, Moo Mawa Maranna Enawaooo »

Yes, those were her words, exact words which made all the neighbours to yelp as well. If I can translate it directly into English I would say she screamed :

(  Sacred Mother, Save me, This beast is coming to kill me. )

Would an English lady scream like that?
I also heard a man shouting in utter filth. It was so common to hear filth from that part of our neighbourhood which we were always ashamed to talk of. But, as kids they were our entertainment providers because we get to hear all the bad words which we were not allowed to hear in day today life. Therefore, it was with great pleasure I remember some of dear neighbours who were the sole providers of our miserable , virtuous lives.

I heard the cry but it did not move me from my bed to leave behind the novel I was reading, I respond to sound so slowly. It was the yelling of my mother next to my window which made me get up. Is Blood thicker than water ? Anything can be thicker than water, even Curry.

« Come here quickly, That man is going to kill her, Come now, watch, Be quick, Aiyoo, Come out from your room What the hell you are doing ? Always locked up in the room. Come out. Come here we can see it from here, hurry up ! »

Now did you all feel a rush in those words ? Are you all holding the breath ? I did at that time. Should I be generous to make you feel what I felt?

My mother who loves drama, who is also dramatic, who is naturally sensitive to all the gossips in the village while perfectly staying at home was crying quite naturally. It needs a little word to make her cry, so I thought this was normal, a normal situation where loud domestic fights do occur in a regular basis.

Village women next to Prema's house also wailed :

«  Aiyoo, Kawuruth Neddo, Anee Deviyane, Kawru Hari ennako »

If you scream in english you would say «  Oh God, Is n't there anyone around ? Please help »

But will they come ?

No one moved, but continued to screech.

Now where is the sophisticated villain with the guns ? Instead, I saw a middle aged man clad in a dirty sarong & unbuttoned shirt , running down to her rented small house with a sword on one hand & holding the border of the Sarong on the other hand. He ran at such a speed that time actually has stopped. I think this man was chasing her around for awhile which made her scream and made her got out of her house and run to another house.

So, we started to watch the scene. He dragged her out from the place where she was hiding while she was desperate to run, he grabbed her by her hair and started to beat her & shake her. She was so tiny I could only saw a black little thing being shaken here and there.

« Ko thope podi eka, thota maath ekka enna beri unane, Ko thope podi eka »
(Where is the little bastard, You could not come with me. Where the hell is the baby ? )

He yelled like...a devil even though I have not seen a real devil, I thought Devil must be someone like him. It was obvious he was drunk , he must have drunk Kasippu which Ananda sold in a shrub eventhough I have never seen that aswell. I always smelled nasty smelling men coming out from that shrub spitting hardly on the floor, when I passed by.

So,we were watching, my heart beat went fast, I was watching the scene from the hill which separated our house to theirs, across the yard, there was a lot of space, I was safe, we were safe, perfectly placed. My father dared to go near the fence and he watched the scene closely where as we women watched it from far, sitting. Some men also came to watch the scene. We did not move an inch, all flabbergasted, waited for the next thing to happen. The screaming continued, Prema, The man, her neighbours.

Suddenly, I saw a little boy appearing to the scene, he cant be more than 10 years old, wearing a short and showing a naked chest, a tiny black creature.
He cried so hard and pleaded :

« Anee thathe gahanna epa, aiyoo gahanna epa » 
( Oh, Dear Father, don't hit, please don't hit )

He was the only to plead.

The Man shouted «  Ayin weyan yako, gedara palayan » 
( Get lost, buggar, Go home )

The boy decide to coiled around his father's legs like a snake, yes this time I found the correct simile and he continued to beg,

"Aiyyo thathe, mokuth karanna epa eyata"
(Oh, Dear Father, don't do any thing to her)

whilst the man continued to beat her, to drain all her enrgy out, and kept on threatening her.

« Umba kiwwe neththen, mama umbawa manarawa »
 (If you don't tell me, I will kill you)

She continued to ask for help :

«  bera ganiyo, moo maranna handanwao » 
(Help, God, Help, This one trying to kill me )

Now, Is this happening really slow for you ? I wanted to elaborate a bit. They did not negotiate, they did not have intervals to talk, they did not have commas, inverted commas, full stops, capitals , simples & translations. These were uttered in a rush within seconds. Shall we analyse a bit of grammar and the register of the language she used?

And he stabbed her, he stabbed her several times. I saw.

The little boy shouted from his throat. All the village women cried. Men watched.

He stabbed her again. She fell. Again He butchered her this time like the fish monger who cut the fish against the wooden block. Chop, Cho, Chop.

She was a fish, the earth was a wooden block , ask earth, I smelled the blood , I imagined the colour red. She lied flat. He continued to stab with his unsharpened sword. She did not move a lot this time.

Something broke inside me, my voice started. Tears started to cascade, throat went dry, blood rushed to my head, I started to shiver and word came out, yet I did not move.

«  Thathé, aiyoo thathé, Monawahari karannko , Anee ara manussayawa nathara karannako, aiyoo kawru hari nathara katannao , aduma ganne wathrua baalidyak wath gahnnako ? »
(Oh dad, Please go & save her, please do something, that man is killing her, can some one please stop that ? Can someone atleast throw a bucket of water at him ? )

I asked the help of my father ,simply because he was the only Man I knew, my solution was a bucket of water to stop a murder. With all my innocence, I pleaded my father to go and throw a bucket of water or throw some stones at that man. But he was silent. I told him again to go and help, I was all shivering I could not stop the tears, I am sure they were not from pain , but from a deep anger.

Suddenly, mother stopped crying and she scolded me :
« pissuda, thathawa yawanna , ee manussaya thathwath marayi, penne nedda yakek wage ». 
(Are you mad ? Are you mad to send the father ? That man will kill father aswell, Can't you see that man is like a devil ? )

Then she was killed. Completely. Her voice stopped.

Climax is over. Sleep.


The voices restarted slowly, whisperings then developped in to a big discussion in the village. I got to know the story quickly.

The man all drunk, sat beside the dead body, no one dared to go closer. He did not try to run away. He sat there all satisfied. The little boy was also next to his father. There came another woman to the scene & she started to beat him for the crime he did. She was his real wife. She beat him so hard, crying with anger , for the foolish act he did, thinking of the long term emprisonement he had to go through, cursing the whole universe for selling alcohols, contemplating on the debts she has to pay all alone, she kicked him hard. He sat there, lifeless untill the Police came one hour later and created a panic as if he was trying to escape from the handcuffs. But he was not in a hurry, he marched peacefully to the Jeep. They left one cop to guard the corpse waiting for an ambulance to arrive. First they transported the murder then then the murdered. Cops had a pride in their eyes to catch the murderer so easily.

Then came a man with a little baby. He was her husband, Prema's illegal husband who never married her, who decided to stay with her to create a family. Little baby was crying hard, she wanted milk from the mother who was now lying on the floor covered in blood. She waited blood to become milk. Her tears were not enough to make them white. She did not have a father, yet she was in a father's hand. She had a hole in her heart, she was born to die, she was born to see how her mother being killed hiding in a bush with an unknown man. They all cried sitting beside the murderer and the murdered.

Prema had fallen in love with this uncivilized drunkard who was a father of two children. She must have tasted some forbidden fruits all rolling in the lemon grass bushes in the woods with him. They say he wanted her, elope with her leaving his family, but Prema did not want because she also loved her baby & her cowardly non-husband, her little family. The devil wanted to kill the baby so she would come with him to play Kotta Pora. I really don't know, that what these women say, they love the stories about women, their own kind, to add bit of salt & pepper here & there and make a whole curry out of it. They who screamed in pain while ago started to question her behaviour. Men preferred to keep quiet, as usual.

Geethani who had several men when her husband was abroad said Prema deserved this death for sleeping with men & playing with them. Samanthi, the pretty woman who recently arrived from Middle East job with a big belly and lost that big belly within a week said, Prema was a bitch and no one should go to her funeral even. Wimala said she predicted this long time back & karma could not be stopped. Ramya sympathized with the real wife of the Devil approving her courage to beat him. They all said, Prema desrved this death for commiting adultery, for leading a man to kill her & ruining another family with two children. She was clearly responsible for her death, according to them. A woman should not behave in such a way, They all uttered disapproving.  Is she a woman? Would not it have been a nobler death, if she commited suicide, I thought at that moment after listening to all these bitter comments from these women.

I did not go to her funeral because she did not have a proper house in my village so her funeral took place in her native village. The women who went there came back with more interesting stories that there were men from that village who came to see her body & started to weep, among them the real father of the baby. Father of the baby, adopted father of the baby, the murderer, the baby & some men actually cried as I believe. Prema did not cry anymore.

Now, you got the plot don't you feel bored ? I can't really help that because stories begin & end, they can not keep us entertained all the time. 

Were you dissapointed? Then again, we can not really find a meaning in everything we write. We imagine, we narrate, but we always fool you. I assure don't be carried away by the illusions of writers.

When I think about her now, I imagine how she was killed, how no one actually did anything to save her at all because she was bad, because she was not powerful, because she was not rich, because she was not beautiful. I imagine how she asked for help, how I sat & watched it like a film. Should I have another bath to forget the bucket of water I could never threw at the Devil. Should I throw more stones to the Sea because I could not throw a single stone to the Beast ?

I am nothing but a handicapped writer with a perfect body & some useless grammar & vocabulary to push the wheelchair.
I am just a gossiping woman who dared to describe her private life , hating the other gossiping women.
I have always been a silent spectator, among many, waiting.

Yet, today I write for one last time, I saw, She was murdered: Prema. 

We could have saved Her & all.

By Jahooli Devi