॰॰ मुझे तो ख़ैर ख़ानाबदोशी ही रास थी, तेरे

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 🩷

“I was a hollow canvas, she was a colourful contagion, spreading a portrait of love, onto this vacant soul of mine.”

“Red pigments are first to evanescence”

The whole video feels like a poetry 🍀

Damn…

Damn…

शून्य

शून्य में देखना..

ये शब्द मुझे काफ़ी प्रशिद्ध दार्शनिक Nietzsche के एक कथन की याद दिलाते है:

“Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”

हालाकि यहाँ पर शून्य की बात नहीं अंधकार की बात हो रही है. लेकिन क्या शून्य और अंधकार एक जैसे नहीं है? अंधकार प्रकाश की कमी है और शून्य एहसास की कमी ।

मुझे दर्शन शास्त्र के बारे में इतना तो नहीं पता, लेकिन इतना तो पता है कि शून्य का एहसास काफ़ी शांत और संतोषजनक होता है। कुछ ना महसूस कर पाना भी एक एहसास है । शून्य की कोई परिभाषा तो नहीं, ना ही कोई अकार है । बस जब आपका शरीर और मस्तिष्क को एक ऐसी शांति का अनुभव हो जो कुछ ना करने से मिल रही हो, जो बिलकुल स्थिर हो।

हालाकि शून्य काफ़ी संतोषजनक होता लेकिन यह अनुभव की प्राप्ति की लत जब किसी को लग जाती तो वह इंसान शून्य में ही शांति और सुख पाने लगता है, हमे समझना चाहिए कि शून्य एक अनुभूति विहीन आयाम है और उस आयाम में ही सुख पाना एक paradox से कम नहीं ।

Nietzsche के कथन और ऊपर लिखित अनुछेद पर वापस ध्यान देने पर शून्य और अंधकार का संबंध और गहरा होता है । शून्य और अंधकार दोनों में ज़्यादा समय व्यतीत करने से वह हमे अपने जैसा बना देते हैं। अंधकार हमें विवेकहीन और क्रूर बनाता है, वहीं शून्य हमें संवेदनहीन और खोखला बना देता है।

(शून्य शब्द का उपयोग यहाँ "void" के लिए हुआ है)

~ 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

- Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Woods

Temporary

I have been meeting people since long, I have seen temporary people, I have been with few. They are sometimes the most amazing people you will ever meet.

I met a person, temporary or not, I didn't knew if they will be here with me forever or not, we met, we talked, we went out a few times, and it was all amazing, felt like life couldn't get any better. We were eyesore to everyone around us, I wrote in my diary for them

"I have been living life in this dark abyss, the black and white world, they have brought back the colours of life to me, it all feels beautiful"

They went away, I was drowned in colours, all the colours they gave me. all the red, green, blue.

It should have been end of it all.

their return brought back all the colours, it was all rainbows and butterflies, it was as if I was a little kid who has been handed the crayons for the first time, excited, bubbly and ready to paint the world in their colours.

but sometimes, temporary people should remain temporary, they are meant to be.

maybe the temporary people shouldn't be given too much information about your life, that's the reason they are not permanent, right? because they are non-judgemental as long as they don't know about you.

Once you start making a temporary person a permanent one in your life, that is the moment you are destined to ruin your own feelings and respect for that person. such kind of people are meant to know very little about you, just meet them, have non-judgemental fun with them and move on. holding onto them will ruin your own mental being.

the return of that person in my life, was a pleasant surprise, but all the colours slowly blended into each other, creating a thick, viscous shade of crimson red. it was blood, my blood, the blood of my feelings. the slow, viscous decline of my sanity blending into some bit my self-destructing nature, triggering it all. just like a juicer cutting down all the pieces of fruits into a gooey mess, slowly turning the fruit into a thick paste of nothingness, just pure insides of the fruit.

for all I know, I was husk of a person remaining, all of my insides have been chopped up into the pieces, the pieces of my being, the pieces of my existence, broken, broken, broken down, mixed, churned, gulped and eaten alive.

the fruits which stay put tend to rot faster, they get replaced with new fruit. young and fresh. the one fear I hold came true to me, again.

I wrote for them again in my diary:

"all the colours which came back, were nothing but shades of red"

(Image taken from Pinterest)

~ Necromancer

گھر تھی وہ ہمارا، انسان سے گھر تو دور جا سکتا ہے، لیکن انسان

کے دل سے نہیں

घर थी वो हमारा, इंसान से घर तो दूर जा सकता है, लेकिन इंसान के दिल से नहीं ।

~ Necromancer

Image taken from Pinterest

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

Apparently when you leave home for the first time, you leave forever, the home you return to isn't the home you left behind.

I can't see my life how I understand it is, the present feels so untainted and fresh as if it's a memory of someone with poor memory, brought to life again by a strange fragrance, a sound from a movie, and

The most noticeable emotion of all is just loneliness, the gap between the individual and everything that isn't the individual is so vast that even light is taking a bit long to reach.

I stand at the station waiting for the train, in the cold, the fog, the rain, everyone else has gone home, maybe so has the train, everyone else but me.