i am naughty writer's mother. he has teased all of us and left this world on july 3rd 2009. i never even in my imagination have thought that u will leave this world at the prime of ur youth. U had everything, yet you were not satisfied. as u told a fire was burning in u and this fire took u to an unknown world. now i want to continue his blog along. my son, i am taking certain lines from ur poem 'the mother', and reproduce it with some modification.
When he vanished, we felt hungry
When he vanished, we felt thirsty
When he vanished, we felt insecure
When he vanished, we felt homeless
When he vanished, we felt bankrupt
When he vanished, we felt naked
When he vanished, we felt wounded
When he vanished, we felt being raped
When he vanished, we felt tarnished
When he vanished, we felt death
When he vanished, we died
When he vanished, we felt thirsty
When he vanished, we felt insecure
When he vanished, we felt homeless
When he vanished, we felt bankrupt
When he vanished, we felt naked
When he vanished, we felt wounded
When he vanished, we felt being raped
When he vanished, we felt tarnished
When he vanished, we felt death
When he vanished, we died
my son we all felt death and died mentally. As Nikos Kazantzakis in his 'report to Greco', has written abot his death - u have collected ur tools: the sight,smell, touch, taste, hearing, intellect. night has fallen, the day's work done. u have returned like a mole to ur home, the ground. not because u are tired and couldnot work. BUT THE SUN HAS SET.........
