a crystal bottle, a thousand worlds, a million shards

i wish i had a crystal bottle with sharp cuts and smooth curves. silhouettes of angles and bends, brilliance of glass, as fragile as astounding. stories untold, unseen held within, stories heard and seen treasured inside the glass mansion built with crystals of mind, body and soul to hold memories, hopes, aspirations, desires, anguish, torments, tears, laughter and smiles.  i'd look at it, for hours, a lifetime cramped into those minutes, a lifetime spent in those hours. every now and then, a ray of light would fall on it. caught off guard. amplified. reflected. dazzled. broken into brilliance of millions of shimmers. blob of illumination for sometime. lost into nothingness the next moment.
i'd save it. keeping it away from world and everything else. i'd carry it with me everywhere. i'd keep it hidden in the deepest corner of my existence. it'd be mine. whenever i wished, i'd take it out. flaunt it to acknowledgement of existence then stow it back into bliss of secrecy. it'd have a cork. stopper on all the tides. it'd hold an ocean in it. the cork would be tight. the ocean would be immense.
i'd shake it. a thousand jingles would come to life. i'd put my ear to it and all will be silent. there'd be whispers, there'd be prayers. there'd be promises, unsaid, hushed, forgotten. there'd be jokes, there'd be laughter, stifled, old, dead. there'd be shouts, there'd be songs, there'd be silence. there'd be clatter of rain drops, millions of them, abandoned by the sky, falling on a dark night, cry of sky's broken heart, opening up, a grimace of clouds, illuminated with a wave of lightening rippling through sky.
i'd open it and wafts would spill out. lighter than dreams, more inconspicuous than fragrances, more vivid than realities. there'd be smell of a lover, the scent of his existence seeping in through every pore of me as i lay next to him, smell of love, passion, reluctance, desire and ecstasy  there'd be smell of that damp room, as i sat listening to silence of night, smell of sea as tides laugh with each other, mocking my insignificance. there'd be smell of my mother, as i snuggle into her back, clinging to her dress, feeling soundless rustle of her shirt between my fingers, filled with dread, overcome with calm.
i'd look into it and the ocean will be raging. there'd be horizon holding blue of ocean and abyss of sky. the world and everything beyond. endless possibilities. orange of sunrise, gleam of light travelling thousands of miles, falling at my feet, seven colors fused together into one, silver when peeking from behind the clouds, black of depth of sea, darker in its silence than in color, there'd be color of your eyes, as you look away, lost in your thought. there'd be the world i'd watch from corner of my eye.
and then, i'd put the cork back. the sounds would stop. scents would descend back into oblivion, scenes would dissolve. strand by strand. and then, there will be nothing. just the crystal bottle. unfazed, intact, beautiful. i'd cork the world and all its brilliance into that crystal bottle, stow away universes and their secrets with one sweep of hand, discard deepest sorrows and biggest joys with a flick. it'd be mine to hold, and mine to shatter, into million shards, send it back to the smoldering furnace that made it, reduce it to specks of soil, mix it back with dirt under my feet, to unleash million more stories or break a thousand worlds.

the scene is dissolving in front of me. i am losing focus. oh wait, its coming back. people are zooming in and zooming out. someone's prodding the figure, checking his limp hand. that seems like a futile gesture, considering the pool of blood near it. but probably that is not a giveaway good enough for these people. the smile on his face should give them a clue then. when else can a person look so truly happy, when not dead? funny things these people are doing.
 the body is lying slumped against wall. there is nothing left. the buzz of people is louder than the buzz of flies settling over everything, and frankly more irritating. people are moving about, clueless. they certainly have no idea what to do. that explains all the pulse checking and police calling. i am watching it, from the dark corner of the street. no one can see me, i guess. thats why no one's come to ask me any questions so far. its not even a secluded street though, a perfectly busy part of the city. a bit too busy, actually. i had watched as people went past him, not realizing anything. i had seen the blood drip out of him, one drop at a time, his face becoming happier with each losing drop. i was watching him, just not moving past him. i was in no hurry, you see. does that make me worse than them? maybe it does. but i did notice him looking at me significantly, and smiling, acknowledging my unmoving posture, and if i am not wrong, appreciating it. this is what he wanted, i guess, someone to watch him and i was giving him just that. would others make a fuss out of it? shit.
the crowd is getting bigger. more curious clueless faces are joining the previous ones. people are peering over each other, asking in hushed tones. i am losing focus again. i think i should leave. i think i can hear a siren in distance. maybe police is finally here. huh, that will disperse the crowd at last. i need to get out of here.  but i cant. the scene is captivating. afterall, i have stuck out with him so far. besides,  its not everyday you discover a dead body around this place, he is dead, isnt he? may be on the brink of it. its not like its a place full of sad people. perfectly happy people inhabit this part of the world,  people who have nothing to complain about life, who have friends to turn to, who have money to turn to those friends with, who have a lover (or more) to lust after their body and a false sense of security that is called love. he was always the odd one out. i had often met him on strange corners of streets, in the most unexpected places- outside of a coffee shop, on a passing by bus, once or twice right outside his home too. some i remember, some i dont. i wonder how many did he remember. should i have asked? is it too late now?

the place is getting quieter. thats odd. more people have thronged the place now. but its getting less noisy. it feels nice though. but i have a weird feeling in me. my arm feels like someone just touched it but there is no one here.  my arm looks smooth, undamaged skin is shining with pale luminisence in the artificial illumination of street lamps, it looks ghostly but i have to say it looks nice. that soap is good. i cant be smiling. whats wrong with me?! there is a dead guy lying ten feet from me! he is dead, right?
people in white clothes and bored expressions are putting the guy on a stretcher. oh the siren was an ambulance. police didnt get on time here. okay now i am officially smirking. the guy is stirring a little, he is definitely on end of it. his eyes are  flickering a little.  he is opening his eyes a little. shit, he is looking at me and.... smiling. uh oh.

where are all the Indians!!!

alright, i am gonna get straight to the topic since i am so in a no-nonsense mood.. anyone would be, being stuck in their house for three whole days, with nothing to do but study, of course, worry about the exams that  might never happen and a stupid curfew.
yes, its third day today and a fourth one of similar nature is almost sure. and for all those who dont know wat am i talking about, i am talking about the aggressive situation building up in Punjab. what started as a minor rift between cops and some people became a big protest including firing, tear gas, swords(yes swords) and what not. people have dies, many have been injured and yet the situation seems on verge of going out of hands..
i am not going to get into 'why cant govt do something about it' or 'what are the police doing' crap cuz they have nothing to do with it. if things are going bad or have gone bad in past, thats cuz we let them.

i wonder, when has India been a country?? its always been in bits-sometimes called provinces, sometimes colonies, sometimes castes and sometimes states. but never a nation as a whole. and who is responsible for tearing it apart every single day even without their knowledge- us of course. we are doing it, every day, ever moment and dont even know about it.
why cant we let humans be humans alone?? why do they have to come so many tags? is being an Indian or above all a human not enough?? if classification's what we are looking for, go look humans up in any biology book. you'd find classification long and complex enough to satisfy your whims.
please let people be!!!! states, castes, races, areas, religion, majority, minority- name it and we have a way to divide ourselves...
i dont get it at all!!!! i mean, here we are, sitting inour homes, terrified,somewhat yes, wondering wats going to happen.
forget about the ethics, if you wanna talk present, think about all the economy thats suffering and that suffers each time an Indian decided to flare his sword at another Indian, think of lives that are disrupted each time we decide to weaken ourselves in name of whatever is the latest trend!!!!

tell me one part of this secular, proud-of-its-diversity-of-religions country that has not bled in name of communalism!!! Mumbai, Delhi, Punjab, Gujarat, Jammu and Kashmir- which not!!!!

come on guys, what are we doing??!! what are we waiting for? no one is gonna tell us to stop doing it until we do it ourselves. there is not going to be any divine intervention cuz all the divinity is wasted on making us humans-something we are definitely not good at!!!!!!!
lets not wait for another 1984, 26/11, or another 50 years of terrified Kashmir.
honestly, i could go on and on about this. this is a sort of wrath i have never felt before, and i get angry a lot!!!!!! so thats saying something...
i have said all i had to, okay maybe bits of it. but is anyone listening???