Freedom of Thoughts

Thoughts are the last, invincible survivors after everything is lost. Thoughts are the immortal phoenixes of echoes rising from the ashes of slogans. Thoughts are unsaid words of a promise a martyr scrawls with his blood-soaked finger on a smoked wall. Thoughts cannot be buried or burnt; thoughts, like souls, leave dead bodies and, like ghosts, possess the living. Thoughts are bullet- and bomb-proof creatures; thoughts win battles even before they are fought. Thoughts are patient eyes of mothers of the dead and the disappeared–intently waiting for a spectacle of justice to unfold.

Thoughts don’t come under the purview of the insecure 124 A; the law of thoughts cannot be abrogated from the constitution of a free mind; thoughts belong to the legislature of Ministry of Invisible Resistance. Thoughts scoff at coaxing despots; thoughts spit at the whoredom called national-interest. Thoughts are multilingual sound-waves of silence. Thoughts give a wry smile to authority. Thoughts cannot be garrisoned; thoughts are a territory you cannot occupy. Thoughts show a middle-finger to tamers; thoughts cannot be psyoped. Thoughts stare at the blank space that is about to become a “seditious” Facebook post or measured characters of a tweet that doesn’t fit somebody’s superstitious “community standards”.

Thoughts laugh at interrogators, thoughts sneer at prison guards. Thoughts cannot be scorched by drippings from a burning tire, nor water-boarded, nor rattled by electrocution. Thoughts jeer at stonewalls of jails and guffaw at the iron bars of prisons. Thoughts are migratory birds. Thoughts fly from the incarcerated towards their friends afar.

Thoughts are cornerstones of the house of freedom; thoughts are layers of rust gathering on fetters of servitude. Thoughts are viral, thoughts are infectious; thoughts have immunity to coercive fascism; thoughts are incurable diseases of optimism. Thoughts inherit and bequeath a historical legacy. Thoughts are codes encrypted in the Messenger Ribo-Nucleic Acid.

Each time the dim-witted tyrant makes a destructive vow, thoughts shake their asses in a hilarious mock-dance.