RAMADAN... By now time has gone to desolate desires Wearing the dark costume of sins Extinguished the light of faith in our hearts Extirpated the conscience in our souls
Now by nature's bounty, God has inflated its glory By the arrival of crescent along the sky starry Commenced the exalted lunar month as the month of Ramadhan Declared as the month of mercy, blessings and forgiveness,along revelation of the Qur'an
Fixed fasting ,the one among pillars of the Islam Till iftar at dusk from suhur at the dawn Exempted for ill also obligatory for flourishing Yet unforgivable for both ailing and for thriving . . .
So, before flowing away, when you told me Rain lies, While your eye rained, I should have understood, that your tears weren’t a rhetoric, Your pain wasn’t a personification Neither your love a metaphor, Your breaking down wasn’t aesthetic, You were not a poem That had to be read And let go.
When you told me That you needed me To love you Like a child had to be loved, I should have told you that your tears weren’t a rhetoric, Your pain wasn’t a personification Neither your love a metaphor, Your breaking down wasn’t aesthetic, You were not a poem That had to be played On a musical note, And let flow.
You had no synonym, No one to be compared, You, my love, Had been all mine, I wish someone had told me your tears weren’t a rhetoric, Your pain wasn’t a personification Neither your love a metaphor, Your breaking down wasn’t aesthetic, You were not a poem With different meanings, That could be interpreted In any form.
Chaos is a seething ocean. Turbulent, consuming, destructive and I am one step away from being caught in its whirlpool swirling in my heart. I have been seeing nightmares in black and white. Of people, of incidences locked up in the abyss of my memories, like an album but there's no last page and so, on and off it goes again and again and I am one step away from being pronounced insane.
Silence is the last recourse for the battered heart and Anger, it's offspring. Sometimes I think I am a crack on the window pane. A slight wrong move, a forced push, a sudden yank and I'll be one countless shred of glasses that cuts and wounds.
Anger is like a creeper. Growing, circling and choking until there's no life left in you. Oftentimes, I confess, I have found it snaking its way up to my throat, threatening to suffocate me. Silence, I feel speaks the loudest. Mind though, only a good listener gets to hear it. And if you are one, you will find it has a distinct haunting voice. It is like the sound of a funeral dirge, like the wind wailing on a windy march night.
Pain, in its nature, licks and burns and gnaws until what's left of you is a flesh picked bone on sunken eyes cradling despair. It's like gravity, there is freefalling but there's no destination. I saw pain the day you walked out on us that winter morning and winter has never been the same since. I grew to dislike it. It chills me to the bone and there's nothing fire can do to revive me.
Trauma is the demon hiding inside your closet. But on certain days when it rains, there's this bolt of lightning that illuminates it all and there's no hiding it anymore. You are a bundle of mess and your tangled hair and tears soaked face is a testament that there's no salvation. Sometimes, it's like a bad tattoo, etched deep into your skin to stay forever. Itching because it is infected and as much as you wish to do nothing with it, you cannot help your fingers from scratching it.
This ramble? Yes, this ramble is a product of a sleep starved soul. You call it insomnia but I call it a blood sucking parasite for the energy it drains me off. In between the twists and turns, I have never been more philosophical and never been more jealous of you too. Philosophical because there's life and in my delirium, I dissect it to solve it's mystery but who am I to solve it when there's the rest of others who cannot decide what came first, the egg or the chicken. Jealous because there's you, peacefully asleep, sweetly smiling to a dream your soul has taken you to while I lay awake battling it out.
It's the pale moonlight falling on my face through the window, it's the lavenders dancing in my field like ballerinas, it's the burbling brook striking to meet the sea, it's the striking of the clock when I'm trapped in the quilt of silence, it's the whistling of wind chimes when zephyrs come home, it's the smile of the innocent kid I met on the street, it's the petrichor that dearest rain brings along, it's the hope residing in my each bone which keeps me whole, it's all the chaos residing in my subconscious, it's the joyful memories that tear me apart, it's all the false lies every poet's ever said, it's the forgotten love buried deep in my heart for you, it's my wilted soul I keep in the pages of my journal, it's the ambrosia nectar that makes me quietly eternal, It's the morning cup of coffee in your lover's arms, It's the parched sky touching the serene oceans, It's the good night kiss of your mother , It's the gentle touch of perky winds on your delicate cheeks, It's in the teary smile of an old man meeting his son, It's the solitary evening on your balcony after a strenuous day, It's in the smile you lended to a stranger on the bus, It's in those special people named as friends, It's the flood of ecstasy while seeing the old childhood photographs, It's the first kiss under the blissful ceiling of sky and the faint streetlamp, It's the bleak nights haunted by fiends and ephialtus, It's all of the bad days and scary nights, It's the pain of your heart, It's the kindness you have inside your beautiful soul, It's our little frivolous heart loving the world It's the long tight hug around your favorite person, It's in the very words of this poetry, It's when the sky fell in love with the earth, It's when we fell in love with the stars, It's the gracefully aesthetic scars of the moon and your own self.
Poetry is nothing but words falling in love with each other, Along with all the metaphors and imageries kissing and dancing, To the music of our own soul.
- _firefly and Ananya
_______________________________ Collab with one of the best person here @_firefly . ❤
Mery mehboob ki kahein or Shadi hogai Ya hona hi tha k meri barbaadi hogai Phir dhool jhonki ankhoon ma piyar sy! Aur you dosry ki to khana zadi hogai Shohar mila bara hi kharoos sa usay Mjy yad kerny lagi or meri faryaadi hogai Dil pehly khusiyoon sy labraiz rehta tha Kyon is traf ghamoon ki abaadi hogai Sirtaaj thi wo, ma usky sir ka taaj, per Wo larki kisi aur ki shahzadi hogai Ay Ummi khush o khurrum rehna toh banta hy Fitny sy or ghamoon sy azaadi hogai