Tag Archives: friendship

A letter to nobody: Revel in her perfect imperfections

Dearest Nobody!

Let me be very honest about it and let me say it all loud and clear!

You defy your feelings. You deny your love. You hoodwink yourself let alone the entire universe. And it is rather alarming.

You are half dead and it pains me. You live but you are living in denial. And I find it cringeworthy.

You keep trying to find an escape. In vain. From yourself. From every object around you.

From everything that has life. From everything that lacks it.

I know you love her. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be around. Pursuing her. Despite failing at it badly.

Because you are sure that she is a meaningful pursuit rather than just another disposable pleasure.

And you are afraid. For, she is a pursuit that never consummates. She won’t last forever.

You might as well, my dearest one, for her may just be a passing fancy.

Things change. Priorities change. Separation ensues. Distances grow.

Inevitability of change plays its part. Forgetfulness takes its toll.

But remember! Just because something doesn’t last forever doesn’t mean it loses it luster and diminishes its worth. And you totally understand that.

People part and they move on. That’s life. People come and people go, in and out of your life. That’s how it works. Because life goes on, you know, right?

Years lapse by. However, deep within, there is still a part of you that she cohabits.

Memories become your solace. And memories haunt too.

That is exactly when you understand the value of memory.

That is exactly when you understand the idea of immortality of events.

You understand eternity.

When in love, you are in no condition to distinguish between the right and wrong.

And that’s totally human.

And you find no flaws but only virtue.

You overlook all the scars and merely see perfection and grace.

She casts every ray of awareness upon your love for her, the moment you lay your eyes on her.

She casts spells over your mind even during the moments when she is out of sight.

She may not be the perfect personification of beauty. But she is beautiful nevertheless. In her own way.

Like you are saying now and you have said it before.

Nothing looks prettier than her pretty pointed nose and seductively smoggy eyes and sugary smiling lips and slender silvery neck.

And she is full of whims.

You never knew before meeting her that the whims could be as delightful and exciting too.

Imagine loving someone to the level that her caprice starts to sound cute and seem comely.

She is a wild creature.

And there is something beautiful about her wildness, right?

And she is weak. And she is vulnerable.

And she doesn’t even wear false pretensions of power and resilience.

And she is dangerously honest about her vulnerabilities.

And she is a free soul. Isn’t that lovely?

What floors you most is her completeness, and her craving for freedom and her longing for perfection.

Times have left its marks on her mind and scars over her soul.

Know that she was destroyed before.

She needs pampering. Treat her with care  and kindness and vigilance.

If she decides to be with you my dearest one, she will do it with all her entirety. Know this now and know this well.

Know that she will have to step over her fears and insecurities to be with you.

And fears don’t fade away in a wink of an eye.

They take time. Give her time.

If she loves you and respects you and entrusts you with an opportunity, treasure it with all your heart and soul.

Don’t ever let her down.

Know her. Read from the pages of her life.

Spend every moment with her as if it were your first. And last.

Be present. Physically and emotionally. And read.

She comes with an emotional baggage. Share it.

Strive to stimulate her thoughts and her emotions.

Plunge into her soul like you will dive into an ocean.

Know this that her love and existence will heal every part of you.

But remember this. Don’t try to fix her. Ever.

She doesn’t need fixing.

She is complete with all her pieces – which could, might as well, be scattered.

Just don’t try to mend her.

Don’t ever treat her like she were a broken woman.

Let her past scars and marks be!

You should just not be the one to inflict more upon her.

She would want to undress her soul in front of you and be utterly herself.

She wants you to look at her like every woman would want to be looked at!

Give her all of you so she could give you all of her.

Revel in her perfect imperfections.

Build her up. Uplift her.

And enjoy the art of reciprocation.

Talk to her about the stars and moon and sun and oceans and entire galaxies and all that is beautiful out there.

Treat her right. Respect her. Protect her.

Allow her the privilege of privacy. Trust her.

Appreciate her.

And last but not the least, give her all of you so she could give you all of her.

Revel in her perfect imperfections…

Yours truly

‘Someone out there’

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Damsel in distress

Serene environs.

Silence broken by the gushing water

falling down the rocks…

amidst green, secluded space,

stands the damsel in distress…

Unperturbed by the chaos in the vicinity,

un-amused by all the beauty at her doorsteps.

Fighting some futile tireless mind-battles,

over-stressed. Ungrateful.

Oblivious of all the gifts.


I can’t rhyme anymore

“You’re the reason I can’t rhyme anymore.”

I always keep repeating to myself that I shall not write about you, not any more. But the moment I stop writing – I have realized – I stop writing at all, once and for all and I write none.

I write about you. I write about it every now and again, and keep it deep secretly under the closet.

I can’t understand whether I am too afraid to say this all in your face. And I can’t fathom, if that insinuates my cowardice or my excellence in keeping secrets.

I have started loving similes since I created them in bulk, unheard and unsaid; and a million metaphors that end up nowhere – unseen and unread.

Similes and metaphors describing your smoggy eyes and wavy hair, memories and distance – distant memories to be precise, delusional hopes and everything else cherished and regretted.

Certain tales are better off unspoken, and unheard. Or at least our parable is the one.

You always said it out rightly from the very outset. And you jazzed around your point of view straightforwardly. And you danced around the truth so convincingly so you never have to break anything – or anyone.

But even then – you’re definitely not the one to blame – my parts and pieces feel bent and broken, at the mercy of 24/7 harsh weather in my mind, and scattered to whatever the rains and storms happen to pass. I feel like a building standing without the firm base ready to fall apart without anything holding it up.

Missing someone, they say, is self-centered. I self-center you every single second of every single day.

Every single piece of fiction is a reminder of thee and I want you to read; every second note of poetry – merry or melancholy – makes me crave to read it aloud to you, out rightly ignoring the very fact that it could pretty much be a nuisance on thy part.

So what am I left with? Build a sand castle along the shore, transcribe everything I wish over the sand, graffiti my thoughts in invisible ink on every wall around, build the virtual bridge and forget what I left underneath.

Even if it means, I am the one drowning under there in waters which are dry and lifeless enough not even capable of an absolute kill.

Anyway, all that is happening is for your good. You don’t have to watch me fall apart, and I don’t have to let you hold me together. And I am not falling apart either. So you don’t have to hold us together.

But I wish you would. Though, it’s a lot better that you aren’t. And it’s a lot better that you won’t, and very importantly for your own good.


Melancholy melody and pensive poetry

Touching notes of melancholy melody,
playing over the headset,
whisper into the ear so earnest.

Moving pieces of pensive poetry,
couplet, eulogy, sonnet, elegy,
inscribed onto the pages so pretty.

Sailing through the eye,
hover over the mind. Defy?
Piercing through the heart,
penetrate into the soul. Set apart?

Reminding of blurred images, hazy places,
elapsed memories, foggy faces.
Intimating of delusional hopes, unmade promises,
busted dreams, unfulfilled desires.

Prompting of assumed friendship, ephemeral kinship.

Touching notes of melancholy melody,
moving pieces of pensive poetry,
rejuvenate nostalgia, fuse reminiscence,
revive hopes, renew dreams.

Touching notes of melancholy melody,
moving pieces of pensive poetry,
enliven friendship, revitalize kinship.
rekindle infinite love, and companionship.


Friendship not forever lasts

On the crossroads of life,
With an affinity did friends meet.

But time betrayed in such a way,
One went this way, other went that.

A ship was there, that drowned;
Though its planks kept floating.

A flock was there, that scattered.
One went this way, other went that.

– Translated from Sindhi


State of denial

Do you know what is worse than losing someone you love or excruciatingly more painful than living in piercing pain?

It’s the state of denial. It’s convincing yourself to shut up every time you feel like you must speak up. It’s the fear of losing a bigger war, losing something of someone that you already have in hand in pursuit of what you may never have, and trying is all but in vain.

It’s actually all that “may not/might not” which is for sure worse than anything else.

It takes months and years to try and create someone like you out of the words like dreams and desires and magic and prayers and lights and fire.

And it takes seconds to seeing it all soaring away disappearing into dust and vanishing like vapor and dispersing into mist.

You put me in some real fix. I want to secretly admire you staying like a distant dream from afar while simultaneously yelling every single thing I love about you right into your face.

I want to perch on your mind and flow in your veins running with your blood and web on your nerves leaving no space for anybody else and stay in your eyes for good but at the same time aspire and choose to be an insignificant bystander; one you may never know if ever existed at all. Fighting a battle of should or should not.

My condition is no different from the man who believes to have started world war four with his feet because they can’t take him to his loved one and because he already had the third with his head.

I am fighting many battles in my head already, and losing; from nobody but myself. And I don’t want to lose on a bigger front. Hence, choosing to shut up every time I feel like, I must speak up.


No I am not in love

No I am not in love with you. I don’t even know what it is to be in love. Because if ever I were, I would simply act normal, reach over to you, express it and that’s it. End of story, right?

No I don’t believe in “if you try to possess them, you lose them, like forever.” If ever, I were to fall in love with you, I would never lose my mind, for sure.

No I don’t think about you all day long. Even in the mornings when I wake up, you are not on my mind, like totally. When heading for work, all I think about on my way is absolutely not you. Entirely not.

Throughout the day even during any single assignment, I never even attempt making beautifully broken, unclear, blurred images of what you might be doing or thinking, and interestingly never even had a second thought about texting and asking the same for like million times a day. Not even once.

While having a cup of tea, I have never even had a single thought about calling you over for the company. During lunch I am preoccupied in food, why should I even let my mind wander around hallucinating and sharing my meal with you? I definitely don’t.

I don’t think about you for real, even for a single second, not even for mere mili-micro-nano-picoseconds. It hasn’t even occurred to me for once in so many days now that everything is not as it used to be.

No I don’t spend sleepless nights oft times. No I do not dream about the valleys and moons, and swans and sunsets. I am no day-dreaming at all, for like innumerable days. No I don’t even spare my single moment thinking about it for as long as I can remember.

I don’t even reflect on your smoggy, spell-binding, dreamy eyes or adorably fascinating smile. Why should I? Why would I even get into all this dramatic, filmy and unreal stuff, utterly unnecessary rites, and pointlessly worldly, illogical and irrational rituals?

No I am not in love with you, you get it? And no I am not lying, you hear it? I am not lying. I am definitely not lying. And you know that.