As You Touched My Hands, My Heart Was In Million Of Pieces Already, I Knew You Hurt Me, I Knew It Was

I once dreamed I was a butterfly, and now I no longer know whether I am person, who dreamed I was a butterfly, or whether I am butterfly dreaming that I am a person.

~ Chuang-tzu

Sending love and light. Your posts make it seem you are going through a hard time. I hope it gets better soon🫂

We all are going through something, I just prefer to put it into words. Most of my writings are from my previous experiences, I just keep revisiting my memories, finding emotions I can put into words, thus making my pen borrow my pain.

Rest assured, I am doing better :)

&

thank you for your love, thank you for your care 🩷

Winters are cold, just like her heart to me,unforgiving and unremitting 💙

خسرو دریا پریم کا،الٹی وا کی دھار

جو اترا سو ڈوب گیا ،جو ڈوبا سو پار

- امیر خشرو

खुशरो दरिया प्रेम का, उल्टी वा की धार

जो उतरा सो डूब गया, जो डूबा सो पार

- अमिर खुशरो

Damn…

Damn…

"Woh ajab ghadi thi main jis ghadi, liya dars nuskha-e-ishq ka, ki kitab aql ki taaq par, jyun dhari thi tyun hi dhari rahi"

~ Siraj Aurangabadi from Khabar-e-tahayyur-e-ishq

Siraj here very beautifully explains how, when one falls in love, i.e., "takes lessons of love" (dars nushka-e-ishq ka) leaves all rationality behind, the passion behind love is something which blinds them, the fire burning within them is so bright that they cannot see or know what is wrong and what is right.

He says he didn't know when it happened and didn't know what was happening. It was a weird time when it happened (woh ajab ghadi thi main jis ghadi...), he was so blinded by love that all the rationality was neutralized by the beauty of love.

the moment one falls in love, the intellect, or the reasoning (kitab aql ki) starts staying in a old dusty corner of the mind (taaq par), slowly collecting dust (jyun dhari thi tyun hi dhari rahi).

(image taken from pinterest)

~ Necromancer

میرے کمرے کو سجانے کی تمنا ہے تمہیں

میرے کمرے میں کتابوں کے سوا کچھ بھی نہیں

- جون ایلیا

मेरे कमरे को सजाने की तमन्ना है तुम्हारी,

मेरे कमरे में किताबों के सिवा कुछ भी नहीं ।

- जौन एलिया

Image taken from pinterest

- Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Woods

I have read books after books, seen series after series, listened songs after songs. nothing, just nothing moves me anymore.

I have stopped caring about myself, my beard is unkempt, hell I don't even know how long it has grown. I don't even remember when was last time I looked at myself in mirror. I just do not want to look into my eyes anymore, what will I answer to my reflection? Who am I? What have I become? the existential dread I have is far more greater than my willingness for self care.

How long is my hair? when was the last time I had a haircut? Why do I feel no love? for myself, for others? I can't help but think about Gregor Samsa, how he must have felt when he turned into a bug, to not able to associate with your body, not able to recognize yourself, not able to care about yourself. How did he feel when none of his family members cared about him, the ones he expected some amount of sympathy were the ones who were the very first to abandoned him. How did it felt to be different? in the most unwanted way.

Maybe I know, No, I am not a bug, or some character from Kafka's dreadful fantasies but I have known all those feelings at some point of my life, those situation which make you stop and think, am I real or some figment of Kafka's stories?

Have you ever felt a moment where all eyes were on you and you felt like you were the oddest one of all humans which exist on this earth? If yes, you definitely know how it feels to be in my situation, this constant paranoia of my life which keeps on asking me to put a facade on my face is the reason I am always on the edge looking for a way to jump out of my skin and crawl underneath a chair just like Gregor.

I would be normal one day, I will look into my eyes someday. Hope it is not like Gregor.

(Image taken from Pinterest)

˜ Necromancer

And one day, she also decided to leave.. I did not ask for an explanation this time, I was tired of asking people to stay. I have made peace with people going away.. holding on hurts, letting go hurts.

"Maybe one day", I am no longer waiting for that one day.. once gone, people never return, me having expectations puts a hole, only in my heart.

"People never return" or maybe I have fallen for wrong people all along?

Image taken from pinterest

~ Necromancer