The writer, who was sitting to write, made a stab at the pen’s cam.
Even in the hands of the king of my country, who has the most expensive ornaments in the universe!!!
Even in the hands of the king of my country, there is an incalculable collection of expensive vehicles in the universe… It has luxury cars and planes!!!
Even in my country, there is the tallest statue in the universe!!!
Even in my country, invaluable places of worship and idols have been built!!!
Even the king of my country eats the most expensive and tasty food in the universe!!!
Those who wrote this made another stab at the pen’s cam and put it on the paper. And (s)he walked, step by step, to the bottom of the pipe in the street to satisfy his/her hunger. He collected the drops of water from the rusted pipe in his/her hands and wet his throat and came back…
He knocked the pen up and rewrote it and added it.
Even in my country, cutting the heads of children for the blessings of God that shook the universe took place…
Even in my own country, baby livers are taken out to please God…
Even in my country, there is a first well of poverty dug up by exploitation in the universe…
The lines of this letter, which had touched the king’s ears in the espionage of some lone wind…
At once, the royal kings took over the writing paper…
The first lines were read aloud to all the people in this world. The last lines without showing anybody rolled up and cut out the palms of his/her hands together, thrown to the dumpster…
When it saw those blood-curdling hands, even the pen cried…!
- A mini story by Sindhu Gatha