Warning

chill wind pierced my skin like a hammernail. They’re rushing like tornadoes on pacific. I’m feeling cold, my hands shivering.

they’re rushing. The farmer of the burnt field as well as the thousands of widows whose husband farmers committed suicide. That 7 days hungry mother breastfeeding her skinny child in her lap. That young prostitute who was raped again and again and media didn’t highlight her because it was her “business”. That teacher whose school was shut down for teaching his students that the sun doesn’t rise , its the earth that revolves around. That poor mother whose young son was killed for questioning the logic behind worshiping a stone. That black guy who didn’t get a job because he had no fair complexion. That girl whose face was mutilated by acid because she shouted when some bastards grabbed her arm in the dark alley. That little child, bruises in his hands and legs, laboring dawn to dusk and yet not being able to afford a proper meal for his family. Those thieves who got beaten up by pedestrians for robbing more bigger masquerade thieves who robes from you every second. Those laborers, who constructed streets, buildings, statues with sweaty palms and bloodshot eyes and yet no street no building was named after them. Those villagers who were brought to city and were promised to give an employment, they made a beehive of slums and knitted little dreams, little hopes, and then the industries shut down and the employers fled away, their tiny tapestry of rainbow dreams was torn apart, they lay there, drowning into the mud of hunger and hopelessness.

I felt million hearts pumping lava blood throughout my body. They marched towards the palace. I rubbed the spirit of million footsteps on my arms , I saw a history on its way to be made. I smelt the good old myself. But I feared, I feared the clouds that barred the sunshine, the frostbite that pierced my flesh, I feared if the devils would win the Armageddon. Chill wind pierced my skin.

Torches shimmered from the roofs of the palace. They appeared from the mist, they proceeded towards the main gate. The guards laughed at them and spat on them. I sensed that eternal fear, so did the frontier comrades , the fear of death. The guards loaded their riffles , a hundred muzzles flickered in chain, and smoke of burnt gunpowder blocked the vision. I closed my eyes. Drops of tears dried into dead sea.

as I opened my eyes , the smoke dispersed and I saw a hundred bodies sprawling on the ground. The flag was lying there, blood-stained. On the sky hovered thousands of happy hungry vultures. Was it the end then? All hopes, all dreams? Who would now take the responsibility and hoist the flag again?the flag of pride, honour,revenge, justice? My inner self cried out. I heard verses of melancholy from distant land of hopeless bards. I heard hiss of a drunk snake from within the palace, a hiss of ridicule. Chill wind pierced my skin.

I was uncertain about my existence and frightfully looked at my slowly vanishing body, body bruised by the wound of frostbite and wound of the eternal cry of mother loosing son, son loosing mother, brother loosing brother and girl loosing her love . then , suddenly I felt a slender pulse in the dead cold, tranquil field. A pulse that lifted my heart and gave it a loud beat of hope, as I saw the little guy, biting his lips in intense pain of broken bones and metal ball inside his limb, get up and stagger towards the fallen flag and hoist it upright again. I cried. I cried in joy. I cried in hope. I blessed him, and I blessed the millions behind him. The boy shouted , holding his breath. Ah! The melody! I haven’t heard this shout for decades , for centuries. The sound lingered in my ears like the lullaby of the first mother. It was like the screaming tune from the harp with broken strings on the furious hands of a furious angel, terrifying yet mesmerizing. My arms, my body started to reappear once again, as the boy’s voice was joined by hundred more, then thousand more, and then countless. A million trumpets roared and shattered all the invisible walls of prejudices , laws , class and creed. The gate of the palace trembled. And so did the eyes of my enemies. The guard’s surprised eyes didn’t get the chance to blink as they were trampled by million footsteps. I saw disappointed vultures fly back to their filthy nest. Not this time! Not this time! My heart danced with million more.in same rhythm, same pulse. I felt stronger than ever. Clouds dispersed and radiant sunshine blessed those brave hearts. They moved forward, bellowing…shaking the mirage horizon. Shaking the heaven and the gods above, shaking the earth and underneath. And the dirty devils from hell fled away . I was proud of them. They marched forward with the flag held straight. Defying fear, defying death. Their blood boiled in temperature of sun’s core. Their nerve and sinew hardened like steel. They have waited enough, tolerated enough. Today they have some answers to seek, some justice to serve, some revenge to take, some unfair dices to make fair again.. They were coming, a change was coming with them, a change that would crumple the age-old system and set it ablaze, they were coming to equal the inequalities… They rammed the main gate , it cracked open.

I smiled, “Warning! A warning, I give you, my dear king! Warning of a storm knocking on your door, warning of a system falling apart.”

chill wind pierced my skin like a hammernail. But their warm blood kept me alive. For centuries I’ve been in the battlefield of mass against men who corrupted the power, for decades after decades I’ve seen history in making by these millions of footsteps, from France to America, to china, to Vietnam. I’ve sighted what tide can these million footsteps unfurl. From the dawn of civilization, I’ve been beside the people, whenever the system crossed its limit. I’ve been on the top of them , flying like a burning phoenix , blessing them, always. I am a fear in the eyes of a corrupt king, I am revolution.