Sigh…

“Paimana bideh ki khumaar astam

Man aashiq-e chashm-e mast-e-yarastam

Bideh, bideh, ki khumaar astam;

Dilgeer garzama labela taana

Khabar me waakhla, raasha jaanana

Khabar me waakhla, raasha jaanana

Tarso ba garzay te bela mana?

– For the entire concept of love resides beyond languages, religions, cultures and creeds. It’s beauty lies in it’s imperfections rather than it’s stark perfections. It’s true essence isn’t present in the union it brings, its rather visible in the connections it forms. More than a humanly connection its a bond beyond the comprehensions of naive minds and blind eyes. It’s the purity of a soul and the maturity of a heart.

Iris

I met him today, yet again. He sat there in front of me, in all his glory and power. Indifferent as ever yet understanding the intensity more than he can ever show.

He was dressed in white and blue jeans, nothing too extraordinary though. I liked that. His simplicity failed as a cover or maybe his intensity is only exposed in front of me like that.

I looked away, knowing that his gaze will follow and it sure did. I smiled at him and asked him to like a picture. He refused. Not something I was not used to. We stared at each other, holding our egos wrapped in the fine sheet of humor between us. And before I could realize everything blurred out. The humor, the playful ego, the stubbornness, all of it, got replaced by this strange intensity. All I could think of was his eyes on me and mine on him, interlocked, beautiful, intense. I counted the seconds in the back of my head and lost the count after thirty. Skipped a beat and forgot the world around me. We looked into each other’s eyes and I swear in that moment he said so much more than he ever does. A smile broke across his face and I understood that I was doing the same. He broke off the eye contact, said something unintelligible which just past by me and left me awestruck and mesmerized by the moment.

I looked down at the way my fingers were tangled. I knew he was looking at me. I knew it all. But I didn’t make an effort to look back at him because I knew I wouldn’t have been able to resist. I resisted. He noticed. We treasured the moment and let it pass.

When they walked hand in hand…

You know that feeling you get when you know someone is not in your reach but at the same time is more closer to you than everyone else? The feeling when someone slowly starts growing on you and you can do nothing but revel in that very feeling? Yes, exactly those feelings!

It was one of those beautiful nights. The moon was shinning proudly against the night sky in all it’s power and glory, the cold breeze was neither brutal nor gentle and there was still the feeling of peace in the bleeding, glowing, progressing, burning city. She asked him if he wanted to go for a walk and he held her hand in spontaneous agreement.

He was walking with his friends in the cold foreign city, smiles on the faces, laughter in the air, cold breeze brushing by when she brought him back. Took him to a whole new walk. A walk he had never experienced before. So far away, they were in two different worlds. She was sitting in her balcony with cup of coffee, thinking about the tales untold and blending in a cold silent night. And here he was walking on a busy road, with construction machines all around him. Yet when they held hands in their conversations their worlds collided and they become one, walking on the same road, together.

They took the road of expressive emotions decorated with words and conversed of tales untold. The silence between them got louder as they walked the unmarked roads, hands in hand, side by side.

They reveled in the stories of the feet that had walked the roads and emoted with the walls that were shagged. Sounds all around their worlds but the only sound they heard was that of the autumn leaves singing the song of silence.

And then in this walk they walked into the sunrise and that is where they met. Their world that they’d reprise.

Nabi

A terrible day, a burning protest, a bleeding city and an intense conversation about mutual hatred for hypocrisy, blasphemy and killing in the name of religion led to something so beautiful and true.

For the love of conversations, reality and spontaneous creations.

Thank you Zuhair for your words. Thank you for coming up with this. This post is for you and your words. 🙂

Ja tu samait lay upne nabi ki shaan,
Tor day kaafiron kay saare bhagwaan,

Aag se poorey karley nafrat kay yeh armaan,
Mizaaj tau tera bhi sakht ho, talkh ho teri zubaan,

Us bargah-e-haq ko tu ne jhutla diya,
Is kayenaat kay khuda ka tu ne lihaaz na kiya,

Tujhay hai shawk tabahi ka, lahu mein teray junoon hai,
Aajizi jo seekhi na tu ne, ub tau teri haar hai,

Larnay chala tha izzat ki jung, le li mazloomon ki jaan tau,
Jo dikhaye ga upna dil usay, nabi bhi tera mehmaan na ho. – Zuhair Abbas Merchant

Here we go again…

And here we go again, fighting, yelling, screaming, kissing, loving. Passionately. Completely. Irrevocably.

And here we go again, prolonging the silence.

And here we go again, finding some meaning in the breaking of hearts and falling of sighs.

And here we go again, moving beyond the pain.

And here we go again, rejoicing the union of the souls.

And here we are again, dreaming…