Rikara Scribblings by Savina

Threads of Faith

Kadam badha le

Move Your feet forward

Haddon ko mita le

Finish off these distances

Aajakhalipanmein pee ka ghar tera

Enter this void (home of your beloved), it is empty without you

Tere bin khaliaajakhalipanmein...

Without you there is an emptiness, Come...

He had never believed in the force of the Almighty. He had never considered anyone superior to himself, neither did he see anyone inferior. He believed in being equals. He saw goodness in everyone, despite the thick poison throbbing in their veins. Perhaps that was why he trusted everyone. Perhaps that was why his trust broke every single time. Watching his mother set herself on flames as her husband, the man he refused to acknowledge as his father anymore, walked out hand in hand with his mistress. He had fallen on his knees, screaming in anguish, after his mother was rescued and tucked safely in bed. He had picked up the car keys and driven with no aim or destination in mind. Fate had a plan though, and his vehicle broke down exactly in front of the temple- the one place he now began to hate.

Ho mujh pe karamsarkar tera

It would be your generosity on me, My Lord

Araztujhekar de mujhemujhse hi riha

I have a request, please set me free from myself (my ego, my pride and my bonds)

Ab mujhkobhihodeedarmera

I wish to meet the true self of mine

Kar de mujhemujh se hi riha

Please set me free from myself

The evening clouds had darkened and the sky was all set to pour down. The drizzling of rain had dampened the soil, filling the breeze with its fragrance. He walked up the steps to the temple; his eyes were darker than the fiercest thunderstorm. Walking straight into the empty temple, he looked into the eyes of the idol that sat there with a serpent round His neck and the moon in His hair. With no amusement in his eyes, he laughed at the idol mirthlessly, and in an accusatory tone he screamed, "You call yourself a God? What kind of a God are you, who silently watches his people suffering?" The thunderstorm had begun, and it was as if nature was bearing witness to this clash between mortal and the immortal. The idol stared back in silence with a serene smile on its lips.

Mann ke mere ye bharam... Kachche mere ye karam

These unreal thoughts in my mind, These works of mine which are not concrete

Lekechalehainkahaan main to jaanu hi na

Where do they all take me, I have no idea

"Could you, please, not wear your footwear inside the temple?" he heard a meek voice of a female, and turned around to see the source of it. There, at the entrance of the temple, stood a petite woman watching him straight in the eye. She possessed a different kind of solace in her demeanour. Had he been calmer, he'd have gone ahead to notice how flawlessly beautiful she looked despite her humble appearance, and how untainted she appeared to be in this brutal world. After all, an artist's eyes would always appreciate beauty. But that wasn't the case right now, for here he was blinded with pure hatred against the whole world that was hell bent on hurting him, over and over again, of which he'd had enough. He was boiling with anger and in a weak effort to get rid of the sludgy poison that was beginning to curdle his blood, he intentionally spat rudely at her, replying, "You think I care?" Looking at the idol, he clenched his fists in rage to see the idol smiling at his cruel fate, "You think I care about this God of yours smiting me with his powers for not taking my shoes off? You think I give a damn about your so-called God's holiness?"