/* she swallowed the rest of the amber wine without tasting it. the play was over, the music ceased, the crowd filed out. one another dream had come to an end. and then, she logged into sajha.com. emotions leapt up in her; but resurrections don’t happen, they really don’t , and it wasn’t him. */

he always disappeared into an inaccessible dimension of his own but always returned. today he is here correct and present.  he had always talked of  keen and blind emotions, ambitions, and intentions. this time there is a new note in his piece , a note so unexpected that it takes a moment for the reader to realize that. with a story set up  between yesterday and tomorrow, in the country of lost happiness and peace, the place of mislaid calm-one could dissect all his previous work better than at first- no more mysteries or depths, only surfaces and revelations. absolutely mesmerizing, one will not be thinking and reading his words, only drinking in the tones of the writer’s voice.

 
one day i would like to sit and ponder why it seems that certain questions seem to come in waves. face the facts: the society we belong to is all treachery, all deception, hiding its nature, guarded and secret in spite of all its apparent nakedness.sometimes we feel like raising a middle finger at them all. yet, no matter how profoundly justified its cause, we personally could not get over the moral hurdles required to perform such acts on a regular basis.we have no time--no second of time to devote to the past. the needs of the present absorb our every faculty. a vision of the future like some dim, monster, but luckily to-morrow never comes.

think this: time passed. no, it did not pass. time stood still. beauty passed, loved passed, mulishnes passed.

“He never wanted his sister with anyone. He was protective of her because as a young man he didn't know what else to be when it came to her. Perhaps that's why she chose to fall in love with his best friend. perhaps she saw her own dada in his best friend. he knew how deeply she admired him.”

our lives, our stories, flowed into one another’s, are no longer our own, individual, isn’t it? i want to feel more than i ever felt before, after reading this. i badly wanna see a face, faces sts, a generation free from history or pain and no carry forwards at all.

happy new year! as it is said it is the first day of something, it is the last day of something else. hope to see more of you next year.

Best wishes

amber