Popular in belief, unpopular around, the Indian system is a failure, popular is the dream. If I write about facts, I hurt the common man’s dream. If I write the fake I stand nowhere in the newspaper’s creed. Therefore, let me write straight from my head and heart, a distorted image which others have thought. In order to achieve this, I need a glass of wine. Yes! It is to forget the happenings of the current time. I don’t mingle with gratitude, I look noway for sympathy, but then I do need a compassionate expression of the reader for what I say.
Poverty is multiplying, painful is more now every disease, corruption has taken the tieing rope of impurity…Life is better when it is seen through a dream or in a dream. So you nurture protection but most people still don’t receive. What is this occasion? What are these circumstances which demand the supreme me? Me to face the trouble and mourn not. Me to smile when the world is free to frown. Me to suppress when others stand free. Me not to write what means the truth of real reality.
So let me write with a glass of wine!
Let me forget overnight!
Let me celebrate my dream!
Allow me not to write reality!
Must acknowledge the pain, must foresee the future next door, must not lie but just hide the complete truth. This is me. This is being an adult and not being innocent, truthful childhood. Care for the roof and money each month. Write not about the dust you saw but the wind that moved your hair with love. There is no sin in hiding the truth, the mistake is being caught in the lie. Let me defeat life and win the kingdom of money around. Let me write with a glass of wine!
Written by Akta Kalra