Sequestration from one's own flesh and blood is undoubtedly a heinous event, typically a nadir, an uncalled fucking nadir in someone's life. There exists no consolation for this part of one's life. And what makes this even more devilish is the fact that such sorts of silences, separations and voids are unavoidable and comes in everyone's life certainly. "Certainty"-Why does it occur? If we are never destined to die or that death won't be ineludible and certain, life won't be a lesson anymore. In such moments of displeasure, if one has been relinquished to love, the undulating life turns easier and more comforting.
But what if that very love leads to another cycle of distress? Another cycle of separation and sacrifice. It smashes our souls into smithereens. Someone who was of a selfless heart, a kind heart inflicted with affection, someone who caressed our hands of despondency- What if that support gets confiscated?
Hibito, a city which has long been recognized for its culture, glory, and magnificence is now into racks and ruins. Recent terrorist invasions and furious intrusions proselytizes Hibito into a land of agony. Swaddled with melancholy and helplessness, the city has been rendered lifeless. Only a place for medicos to scrutinize the strewn cadavers!
"Hope"-an ambiguous, sort of a gibberish emotion, is now extant only within the unsurpassable boundaries of the last, down in the dumps heirs of the destroyed and dead families. Hope -to catch a last sight of the deceased, hope to behold the final warmth of their mothers. The Almighty seems to deliver a reprimand to all such souls today.
All the love has been shattered and there exists no place for repenting since everything is rubble now. No place to shed tears! Every plausible pixel of land moaned, burying the victims. The episode wherein the supreme being turns ruthless is supposedly the end of a spiritual era.
But what hurts one the most is the whereabouts and intricacies of the very "Hope". Of the form of a miniscule hole on a musty paper, this indigent hope burgeons at first when the last living member of a lost home gets closer to the ruined architectures of their homes, and consequently plummeting as the hole is now named air as the paper has lost its integrity.
Guzheng, Bamboo Flutes, Mouth Organs, Harmoniums- Musical and magical instruments assist the sorrows of the broken.
Such glorious weapons are being played by the ones who never really had someone before and after them. The terrorists aren't faulty here, after all the God missed their Amygdala. Whatever happens, whatever unravels is all scribbled, entwined within the threads of our deeds.
Dylan,19- An eyesome yet attenuated guy, draped within a turtle neck black striped pullover under a beige long coat festooned with a contrasting Korean haircut, traipses along the wrecked walls of his colony's public park. His face looks despondently hopeful. An aching face hovering around in search of something special is seen in the scene.
The incessant rain swarms even the finest details of the apocalypse. The rain is audacious enough to have breached even the most unpleasant and excruciating attestations of the blasts.
The moonlight fails to glisten the gloomy world of Hibito. Even the oldest of leaves refuse to rustle to contribute to the uncanny and sinister silence that prevails.
Powerful wind strokes bump deeply into Dylan- the boy who has lost his path to home. Dylan is reluctant to accept the downfall of his hometown. He walks apprehensively, out of a painful trepidation, towards his assumed-to-be dilapidated lane in search for his place, his beloved.
[Horns honking, cars screeching, alarms blaring.]
With a sky decked within a capsule of smoke and a microenvironment made of raindrops, it appears as if the heavens are mourning, weeping at the loss of mortals.
For the innocent Daniel, the heavens were snubbing the dejection of the mankind by erasing even the souvenirs of this roller coaster disaster. There was no one to let Dylan know the mitigation process of the rain.
Dylan (puffed): Sir, let me cross the barricades.
"Son, You shan't. Sorry to say, Entry Prohibited Street!", says Inspector Harrison (as his personalised badge engraves) shrugging.
"You son of a bitch!!!", shrieks Dylan out of a throbbing head as he gets uncontrollable and tender-eyed. "She's there (points at the end of the street). I haven't seen her (weeps as he is held tightly by the officer). Alone. (stoops down) Alone. (kneels a bit more as he repeats "alone" and vents down.) Alone.".
Tears of helplessness, powerlessness and dependence emerges, finds their way through his pale visage. Dylan's face is intermittently visible to the officer due to the flickering lightning and a faint moonlight. Harrison holds Dylan and pulls him up gently. He doesn't feel conceited.
{Clamour and commotion. The officer whispers to himself- "Oh God! May God bless this lad. MERCY!}