Sattantar [सत्तांतर]

Time flows relentlessly and so does the struggle. It does not take a break. If at all there is any change then it is in the form of high tide or overflowing. It is always on the side of worsening. Whenever there are more mouths to feed, a lot of people around this struggle reaches to peak. Whenever sharing land and food becomes inevitable, resistance is unavoidable. Confrontation is at its worst when someone tries to intrude our caste and our system and then tries to break through the impregnable walls of society. Those who are really able to speak, often blurt out their anger and antagonism through words. Those who are not able to speak out, reflect their love and hatred through actions, body language and so on. Once struggle starts, it takes a hideous form. Words appear to be deficient. Weapons take place of words then. Whenever there is a shortage of weapons, then often tusks and nails are used in place. Struggle envelopes everything.