Silent Whispers - Revisited

It also happens that our words sound strange to us when coming from a distance. While composing my poetry, I keep wondering, if this is truly my work. And if so why not now? Why my own words seem strange to me? Where did I lose my other half? The half which was so vibrant, so alive. The half which was the real I.

Life is so fierce. It can make a healthy person go sick A pretty face look ugly A creative person stop writing A sensitive person make feeling-less A vocal person go dumb And a living person feel dead.

we somehow survive the hard times and bad too the all so unexpected ones even though in hearts of heart, we were already expecting it But in that survival we lose our spirit which does not replenish

So many nights were spent, staying up being alone Now its the fear of this loneliness, which makes me fall asleep, well before midnight

When you want to achieve a steady state of emotional life, stop expecting. Stop expecting good times to return Stop expecting people to be fair Stop expecting love in return That's it. No ups and downs in life.

The beauty of love lies in its confinement to one particular being, after all the openness and freedom of choice, if your heart comes back to the same person over and again, that is enough to rule out all possibilities of not being in love. That's the beauty of love.  It doesn't need a lock It's free and open.

محبّت  راس نہیں آتی  یہ جس پر مہربان ہو  اسے بے چین رکھتی ہے  یہ جس کے پاس ٹھہر جاے  اسے نا شاد کرتی ہے  یہ جس کے اندر بس جا ے    وہ  جوگی بن کر جنگلوں میں رقص کرتا ہے  سکوں کی چاہ میں آستانوں پر بین کرتا  ہے  مگر پھر بھی  محبّت مہربان نہی ہوتی  یہ ایسی  بد دعا ہے جو  لحد تک ساتھ چلتی  ہے سکوں برباد کرتی ہے   بہت ناشاد کرتی ہے محبت راس نہیں آتی  

Ajeeb rut hey  Sard hoti shub ky Is aakhri pehar Jub neend ki aaghosh  Main sapney bunney Sey bahter kuch nahe hota Jub sub dukh andheray ki Chaadar aurhey so jatey hain Is aakhri pehar main Neend ky fason se kuch bahar Jagtey huey zahan key pardey per Jese koi film chalney lagi hy Koi romanwi film Jis ka ikhtitam Judai thi عجیب رت تھی  سرد ہوتی شب کے  اک آخری پہر  جب نیند کی آغوش  میں سپنے بننے  سے بہتر کچھ نہیں ہوتا  جب سب دکھ اندھیرے کی  چادر اوڑھے سو جاتے ہیں  اس آخری پہر میں  نیند کے فسوں سے کچھ باہر  جاگتے ہوے  ذھن کے پردے پر  جیسے کوئی فلم چلنے لگی ہے  کوئی رومانوی فلم  جس کا اختتام  جدائی تھی 

Some moments can't be valued when they are happening Some pain can't be measured when they are being felt Some people can't be forgotten when they are away Some words can't be spoken when they are are supposed to be said

Now they are two entirely different phenomena saying and doing forgetting and remembering smiling and sighing knowing and seeking having and missing And the tragedy hits harder when the two become one.

Besides so many things at KLF2016,  I heard MHT saying that as a man grows older her becomes more mature more cunning more selective. As for love,  the initial feelings of love, as a first time experience of being naive and pure and selfless diminishes with time. Andcthen later on,  on multiple occasions whenever you encounter such feelings which could be termed as 'love',  they are not as pure and selfless. As one grows cunning and specializes in lying,  although things may appear as if they involve true emotions he they do not. And we keep on deceiving ourselves and the one involved on the othe other end on the receiving side. It is such a hard fact and needs a lot of courage to admit. At least he had the courage and most others did not. I wonder how life has this unique art of teaching after we stumbled already. 

Ask me , if you wanna know the reason of my stitched lips some words are not for the world some whispers are only for the one some secrets are read in the eyes some pains are reflected in the soul Ask me, before I cease to express the pain, the words, the whispers.

No, it was not OK The way it all ended.