Terror has a new face

The hands of the clock inched toward eight. There was an air of tension around the place. It looked so out of place. People shifting in thier seats as if they were not comfortable. It was obvious that there was a plan. Just that no one knew what it was. Glances were exchanged, heads nodded. tongues wetted the upper lips of their owners. It was time. The flash presentation ended. The screen was yanked. The stage was alight......


They rose. In rebellion. In unison. All differences apart. Leaving those on stage lost for words. We marched like a pride of lions. All the hunters ran amuck tried to suppress them, were forced to withdraw and keep them in. They seemed lost in the sea of mutiny. The mutineers exchange looks. Smiles spread. A collective roar.

Bhagat singh looks down with a snug grim on his face from the big screen, seemingly thinking, "My spirit still lives..".

Scars remain....