• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 04


Nights separate the days,
but when days are devoured
by the nights distinction
disappears and darkness
descends. The days are
now darker than the nights.

In the seat of civilisation
that once thrived on
both side of Tigris
death looms.

In the name of Jihad
Man kills Man.

Will the darkness end?

Will the world turned
upside down stand tall
and straight once again?

Your questions echo
in the dark halls of hell
and fetch no answers.



The goddess of death dances
agonised at the sight of
endless dead bodies.

Dance of death enamours,
eggs them on their
murderous path and
death begets death.

They forget violence gets
routed out by bigger violence.
That is the motto of the peacekeepers.

If bullets are needed to
bring peace, no wonder
peace is in pieces
floating like bloated
bodies in the dead river.

The river of the death
continues to flow.


When you stand on your head
Yoga calls is Shirsaasana.

When gun-toting men's minds
stand on their head they

Go for mass murder.
Men disappear,
children get orphaned,
women raped.

Let Shirsaasana prevail!
Let there be order amidst chaos.