Benazir Bhutto – the tone, my heart had always hankered to heed to, a sensation that encompasses my endurance and has become the very rationale of my prolongation. Nevertheless, when I initiate to corral about that ceaseless essence, my entire body quavers and I am left paralyzed and disenchanted to distinguish how coldheartedly my leader Shaheed Mohtarmah Benazir Bhutto was assassinated and that my lioness princess now dwells under the soil of Garhi Khuda Bux Bhutto – The unsympathetic doom is hard to be articulated and I am left utterly oblivious in a wretched world – unjust realism : life ceases when one opens up the metaphor and every word of it whittles an incalculably cavernous lesion on my heart, one that is far from cure. Meanwhile, the jingles of “Zinda Hai Bibi, Zinda Hai” commence a new folio – a perpetual fable. My leader continues to be the pulse of millions – she persists to rule the masses and I am tremendously obliged to every act of hers. My derelict empathy is not proficient enough to depict the enormity of my inspiration; for my ogles are too drenched to grasp unerringly the sentiments of the crowds that chant “Jeyay Bhutto” at every instant. I am startled that I survive – the entire itinerary of my life transformed and I cannot resist lettering about my leader Shaheed Mohtarmah Benazir Bhutto – the sole inhabitant of every of my conversation and all that goes on in the heart and psyche. Born on the longest day of the year, hers is the longest struggle for egalitarianism – she left ineffaceable marks in the annals of history, fighting the clutches of totalitarianism too courteously. June 21 symbolizes the birth of optimism, and of perpetuity. Benazir Bhutto – my existence concludes here.
Posted on: Fri, 21 Jun 2013 17:54:45 +0000
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