For Manto

For Manto’s 65th Death Anniversary.

You might be interested to know why I always write about him because there are things people generally don’t know about the writer and I don’t wish to educate them by any means.

It’s just me with my thoughts about writer’s struggling career.

Manto Saheb, i know how it would have felt for you to hallucinate different characters that you painted in the stories of yours.

I know how the guilt of giving them voice has eaten you up because you could only write about them and not exactly erase their pain from the blurred canvases of their lives.

You brought shadowy existence to their darkened bodies and felt the irremediable wounds fate painted on their faces.

I know how it feels to write about them and feel as if your whole life has turned upside down because there are too many voices to be heard and you could bring only few forward.

I know how sakeena comes into your dreams and stares at you blankly and how her stare gives you a deathly vibe because you witness marks of people on her soul. Those marks gnaw every corner of her existence and you watch them spread and it makes you sick enough to even exist. .

.

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