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A discourse with a dead woman

We have been politicized my dear, I knew that before, until the news of my death reached your ears, a thousand splendid and narrow emotions numbered as galaxies will burst into your whole existence. But what could I do my dear to remain alive for some more days for you; she whispered into my spirit.

See Shaheena, I am glad to call you Shaheen. You are defected to die sooner had you knew you could enjoy some more days with a different fashion. But I am afraid, what sort of life that would possibly be! A life which is spread everywhere, carrying no weight and yet heavy on shoulders like mountains? Such a burdensome tragedy, I could never prefer for my enemy. You shall rest in peace instead, people were already scared of you for being what you were.

The cutest smile I must have bestowed to you with such cruel suggestions. You could find no object more excited than me, not even a single leaf which spilts up joyously from the tragedy of life in the autumnal season, to kiss your lips for your kindness in that extent.

You are a righteous man, I will never answer your apprehensions. I am glad to find someone who could voluntarily affirm with the tragedies that life confirms to every beautiful soul. I want you and everyone who admire such punishment to suffer and then blossom like flowers as soon as the winter prevails. But one thing, my friend, I shall never forget to tell you that; the worst of nature’s gift is, the seasons change. Or maybe that is the best of nature’s gift, I am not sure. I was about to discover that riddle as I was shot dead with some bloody bullets. Could you help me out to solve that paradox for me, or maybe for yourself?

Unless I were a beast, I wouldn’t understand what you have asked. I am burst into tears with my soul by hearing that. I can’t stop weaping my darling. But see how hard my physical body is; I can’t see a single drop of tear in my eyes. That itself is a tragedy.

You are smart in your discourse. I know why you are testing me. The question you asked me is indeed itself a beautiful answer. And see now, hearing that you are smiling. I am not scared of your pasiveness. I expect from you to maintain this style till the end of this conversation. You are an artist. From my part I shall assure you that I will not reveal to the people what you have opined to me. It is a wonderful moment to feel you so closely but I must skip and ask you. Was that really the best moment to die?

Such a stupid question! I will never answer that. But your concerns are dare to me. I will reveal unto you that which is the best time to die, if you ease my concern that which is the best time to live. Life has happened to me in all four seasons and I am damn sure so it did to you. But the fifth season, surely, is the worst of all five seasons or maybe the best one which has happened to me in the previous day, that shall never happen to you. I never wish you understand my concerns, but your previous thoughts revealed to me that you will for sure destroy yourself sooner or later. Therefore unto you only I put my question, “Why was I even killed?”

They say a flower blossoms for its own joy. I deny. A flower blossoming is more beautiful than all the other flowers of the garden, will of necessity, die sooner. A flower blossoms for its own destruction. You are sitting beside me right now and blessing me with your precious thoughts. I must inform you that I have written this letter to you far before coming into know you; who you are, what you aim for. My Beloved, Delilah was more precise than Rumi saying that virtue will cut your head off while vice will only cut your hair. You prefered death to a life that is happening to cowereds like us.

Hey Shehzad! Thou art a common man trying to open too much eyes in too much light. Thou shalt not die in this manner. I wish and I only wish you sleep someday in peacefulness. The beauty lies in the eyes. I do not want you to be blind sooner as I embraced death. Who will than answer my questions? How can you afford to be alive this way; without facing the wrath of my concerns, it hurts. I have no friends besides you. Life is absurd I know, but you are innocent of many things, so you shall bear more tragedies. I am still waiting for your answer. Who should I blame to free me from the sufferings I never wanted you to avoid so soon. But be careful. You have to start from where have I ended up.

You have put me in a tough situation, my friend. I am a good cook, a good person and I think I have a good heart whatever is left of it. But I am not an artist as far I have concluded of myself. I am amazed at your insistent. I thought you have become sympathetic towards me for the time being. You are brave I must admit, to assign me with exhaustion repeatedly. I was to tell you that, but stoped, thinking that your irksome might farther. But as you have encouraged me not to feel guilty of delivering what has to be delivered, I must act like an artist; drop all masks, be true, reveal my whole heart and be nude. I know you know the answer yourself better than me, but I shall not skip your love for me. You have drawn chains behind your own sketch in your previous or maybe the last artistic work as far my knowledge. But no. You have, in fact, already predicted your death by someone from us. Togather we have killed you. It wasn’t a man who snatched life from you, but a mindset that still persists within us. You are saved from that wrath anymore. You are liberated.

I am done with that. I wanted to kiss you again, but you are too slow in your discourse, my dull friend. Let me begin with the first line you told about me. I really loved the way you called me Shaheen. It was my own choice. Did you really like that or not?

We could kill an artist, but the art we could never, the reason why I prefered this name. We could not cut off your wings. You are alive. You are still flying. And we, in turn, are in such a hazardous situation. We are still keeping on killing ourselves in chasing our desires and when they are realized, we start killing our desires too and chase the new ones. Some of us are struggling to be alive, some others trying to end it up and some are dead so long and yet screaming, laughing and crying. But one thing my friend; you are Shaheena and Shaheen at the same time. Isn’t that a genderless motivation. May I acquire the cause?

I will not answer that. I want to put you in darkness for ever. And do not try to escape that position if you have ever thought to respect my precautions. Life would become far easier if we could manage to embrace shallowness, but only that we couldn’t. In between this discussion, you have suddenly become exceptionally dare to me. Therefore, I have decide that you shall promise to me that you will never leave my hand. And then I will teach you how to play with the colours. Hold my hand and let’s take out some drops of blood and together make an art more beautiful than life.

I prefer to die a thousand deaths, than to bear the insult of a single art that forces me to admit that, life exists. I am glad we couldn’t succeed in killing you. I am feeling like, I am an artist like God and for the sake of you I am glad to put myself in this cunning situations on purpose. I know how far is the journey. There is a distance of a dream between you and me. A dream that you haven’t seen yet. And I am unable to see.

You have improved. I Insist, tonight in your compeny I shall be called God. I feel like I have never seen myself so closely. I do not want to become proud without any reason. And then I wish for a God of my own sitting beside me, smiling and giving me countless reasons, one after another to stay sane.

You must become a God, Shaheen. I can find no better idea than that. They will teach you that it is a sin. But do not trust them. Art of being a God; but I am afraid I cannot help you out in this regard. Do you know how to become a God? You are an artist. My this question will go vague. Better bury this in a cave. I must stop asking you further questions.

You have at least grasped that I won’t answer. You are not that much dull my darling. But let me remind you again. You are wrong as usual. I am an artist. I speak in passive terms. And now, as I revealed unto you what I was not supposed to reveal, you are under obligation or rather indebted to me if you have a little bit of conscience; to forward my message to the people who are in between struggle of life and death, to live without fear and die with pride. I will never talk back to you if I ever see a girl come into my path and tasted death for someone else’s honour. Teach your daughters, your sisters and to every opposite gender that they are not products.

I promise to every word of yours, I will do exactly what you have suggested me. And you deserve that. The mind, I thought is an essential art. No, it is the artist. I promise I will always lean my heart as close to your heart, as I can. I could at least forward your message if not able to kill you. To be regardless of the norms, to rebel, is the highest form of agitation. I shall not stop myself doing that.

So then with the hope of assurance I want to end my reservations with some words of love and peace. I am solely concerning you my friend. Your shadow or your past shall never be comparable to the pain I have gone through. A world that is in-between our navel which can not be seen with ordinary eyes, and the world which is pretty much apparent to everyone, will keep on swimming like a wounded fish till the light disappears. At this mean time you can live and die several times. But I know you will never wish. So you shall do nothing and instead just sit in front of the portrait I have drawn. Gaze at the essence of its beauty. And then write with your blood, whatever you think is appropriate. And uphold the honour of the moment when we tried to promise to live and die together and then stopped. If you think this is an unbecoming task then for your ease you can lend my eyes and put them into your eyes and keep on starting at my portrait until you catch a clear glimpse of it. And my dearest friend; if I ever decide to write to you, will you then write me back?

Silence….

I am just a creature like you my friend and wish from the depth of my heart that I shall be called. Your silence will lead me to more sufferings.

Silence……….

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