We are speechless. We are dumbfounded. We are shaken. We are hurt.
We are hurt, but our pens still work. We are dumbfounded, but our heads are as clear as a sunny day. We are shaken, but we are armed. Our pens, our keyboards and our smart phones are our weapons. Our sharp minds are our ammunition.
Our dear friends and fellow fighters are hurt or dead, but they remain our inspiration. We will fall, just to rise up again. We will wipe our blood with our mothers' saree and stand back on our ground. We will fight back. Because we know, machete can't kill us, we die the moment we stop writing.
Our writings will go on. It definitely will.