Silent Whispers - Revisited

No, You wouldn't know How much do I wait for your coming Since the day I  stopped waiting for You. Faiz Ahmed Faiz. نہ پوچھ  جب سے تیرا انتظار کتنا ہے  کہ جن دنوں سے مجھے تیرا انتظار نہیں  فیض احمد فیض 

Good or bad I need to erase them

We were being taught the remedies of various aches in medical school. Wish heartache was included in that list.

The only difference is, some of them are endless.

Belief is what makes the difference. From unknown to known, we travel a distance. From dreams to reality we cross a mile. Where curiosity appears care, Where Strangers appear lovers, Where illusions appear realities, Belief is what plays the game, Belief is what makes the difference.

Its all about running now,be it towards life or away from it. But its not this running element that drives us. Its those stagnant moments that at some point in time made us truely alive and elated. Made us go through soul revival. The energy we drive from those few moments thrives us. Let us be what we are.

We tend to lose things be it people or words with a slight difference though, words do come back, somehow.

For a moment I want to go back go back in time to see it was all real and not a dream!

A poem  entangled in my chest, lines  fastened on my lips, words  like butterflies          won’t sit still on paper.          I sit  for so long         with your name  on this blank paper. Your name just your name exists; could there be a better poem? Gulzar

Death could be considered the harshest-known reality. But it isn't death that grieve us. It is the permanent loss of a person. It is the loss of having someone around, the loss of feelings, sense of sharing, the sound and smiles, the fights and tears, the comfort of nearness, the fragrance and touch that make us weep. The knowing that you can not have,what you used to have. If among halal, divorce is the most dis-likable act by God, its not strange. The moment when a close relation of two people ends in being two strangers, could be the most cruel. So it isn't death of a person or a relation that makes you weep. It is the sense of loss that does.

The real life stories tend to have more power when compared to fiction. Life sends you through a processor of mixing and grinding and when you exit, you emerge out as a learned person. A new story each day. Though some are closer to your heart, some that you don't ever want to forget.

And just at the time when people expect you to write, you are at a loss. The emptiness inside can reflect so well on an empty page.

There are a few words that may dread you.  There are a few things you would never want to hear again.

I always thought words were the most effective expression. I recently discovered, it isn't words. It is the silence that has the most powerful impact.

It feels like a moment when you are flying high in the sky and suddenly your wings come to a a sudden halt, denying you all the rights to fly and then you are in dire need of a rescuer. Rescue me, for I  am stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Dil dariaa samundron doonghe, kaun dilaan dee jane hoo wiche berre, wiche jherre, wiche vanjh muhaane hoo Chaudaan tabq dile de andar, tamboo vaangan taane hoo Joee dil daa maihram hove, soee Rabb pachhaane hoo The heart is deeper than the ocean— who can fathom its mysteries? Storms come and go on its surface, while fleets sail through it, their crews wielding their oars. inside the heart are the fourteen realms, stretched like canvas tents, Only the one who knows these deeper secrets of the heart can know the Creator, O Bahu Translation by J.R.Puri/K.S.Khak)

The state of denial has multiple perspectives. One of them could be unbelievably beautiful. It may makes believe falsehood into reality. It may lets you live through your dreams. When in extreme freezing nights, your cold peripheries turn into warm pink hues, when through the distance of miles you can feel the warmth of a skin, when an insensitive heart can find an unintentional tug of strings, when things happen accidentally and lead to an unknown path. Denial can be a beautiful state.

Precious Words Even as you avoid me, allow me these words. If on some path in this small world of ours Chance or error brings us face to face Would it not be lovely if, like others do We too could pause, with all formality, speak a few words. And what if this occasion of decorous goodwill  Brings a moment of that lost vulnerability And a word scratches the memory of a wound An awkward sentence reawakens a forgotten sorrow. Come! Abandon the darkness of our silence Let a smouldering exchange light up our lives! Let us garland our precious words as flowers are And let them bloom in our desolate hearts As we admit that pain is precious as well. As we accept grief for a blessing as well. Words are measure, acceptance and expression Friends in sorrow, enablers of intercession A treasure too when we have little for the self The beloved, the lover, when there is nobody else. Even as you avoid me, allow me these words. - Zehra Nigah "Mataa-e-Alfaaz" - from the collection "