Two visual stories..

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Shadows..

The fear never really left me, I become alert at every noise. Its not the light that I seek but a comfort in shadows, where I can’t see me, where nobody can see me. I am one in the millions, just a shadow passing by in the light.

They never understood, and I have given up trying. Maybe I am wrong, like he said I deserved it, but what did I do I never understood. Again, I seek the shadows to erase my identity and get lost in the darkness, maybe then everything will end, or will it?

Shadows are my best friend, for they listen to me, only they see my tears as I hide myself within me. I will ask him to hurt my shadow next time, maybe the pain will be less. How did I end up becoming a shadow of myself?

This is for all the unheard “domestic abuse”, that happens within the premises and definition of “Marriage”- which no women, children or men should ever go through in life. Shadows should trail and not become the identity.

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The utensil bridge

The Bridges of Water..

“Tap tap tap”, the water overflowed from the bathtub, as the swimming pool was getting emptied second time in the day and getting refilled again. The entire bed linen was getting washed again, for these rooms were suite, and the rich don’t like things unclean, even when they are not there to enjoy the “cleanliness”. The spoon was only at one end.

The glasses half filled with water lay across tables, people had only needed one sip, rest was luxury that wasn’t required. The lady in the parlor only wanted hot water to be changed twice for two feet, she was paying a lot of money for getting her feet cleaned.The spoon is filled only at one end.

The dry parched earth looked at him mockingly, as the animals died thirsty looking for water. The dirty river had dried up and the holes that had been dug up in its places dried up too, but here the value of life was cheap and water a necessity ¬†wasn’t even available in drops.

The bridges of water, how convenience overweighs need. The spoon is filled only at one end..

 

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