peace-over-clarification - Tumblr blog

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fear or strength which one to trust???

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In life things don’t fit together as neatly as do the proofs in my letter — life is more than a game of patience. But after allowing for this answer, which I can’t and don’t want to elaborate on now, I still believe my letter contains some truth, it takes us closer to the truth, and therefore it may allow us to live and die with a gentler and lighter spirit.

-Kafka, in his letters to his father

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I feel the urge to type and type and type but I cant find anything in my brain to get out. Just the urge to writewritewrite

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कयौं अपरिभाषित भावनाहरुको थुप्रो हुँ म ,

कसैले पनि बुझ्न न सक्ने रहस्यमय कुन्ज जस्तो I

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Just trust the universe, it wont end with you rather it'll bless you with something more beautiful.

WILL THIS END WITH ME ?

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I wanted to ask you, if breathing hurts and I want to hear yes. I want to know does it feel empty anyway, to write or not being able to write?

Do you wish you had taken other path than literature if so, what would it be?

Do you sometime find yourself in the list of writers who suicide like silvia plath, virginia woolf, David Foster Wallace? What did you lost in experience of reading as a child and as a literature graduate?

Do you find yourself hating words when you can't make your feeling understood to your loved one? Its like you wail, bleed, torture and punish yourself with words and yet you cannot reach the person whom it is intended to.

How despicable is poems infront of the people we love. It makes me wonder, Bhushita di, why every writing is full of longing..

: ) Does breathing hurt? See, there are parallel realties braided into each unit of time. Does breathing hurt? Is living hard? Isn't this world full of agonies?--yes. But is this cosmos expanding? Are there music in the cauldron of melting stars we are yet to hear? Do the rich pigments of magenta and mauve flourish from the dark womb of the earth? Do sudden ardors metabolize our blood ?--the answer is yes, and yes.

It is infinite everywhere you look.

Suicide or not, we are all made of flesh that is decomposing every minute. This is equal part joyous as it is tragic. Neither this, nor that. If this, all of that, too. I cannot read DFW or Woolf without remembering Basho. They are all making music out of mortality. Why not?

I think it is very, very important to remember to rest. To rest is to be in prayer. Sabbath, if you may. Just rest. Without pandering to any longing. Just be with yourself, the self that is undefined by the other. The self that is content as it is. Longing is good. I am all for desires. But that is not why I write. I write as a prayer. I write to indulge myself, the god in me, who wants to play and play.

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i crave this attention but i hate attention,

i dream about being surrounded by love but i am scared of being the broken one in love

i have this shining house of hopes but i'm scared to let anyone come around,

i dream of being the one who is in love but i'm scared of being the only one in love.

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Nothing is bad if consumed under limit!

some things should not exist, like the vanilla coca-cola, or the coca-cola company, or the entire fricking sugar water and bottled water industry.

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abhi aisa samay nahi hai, jaha koi itni siddat se kisi se prem kare...........

how is it fair to just leave and come back later for love?

मगर मोहब्बत एक क़ैद नहीं

ये एक खुला आसमान है जहां

कोई बेड़ियाँ नहीं लोहे के

सिर्फ़ क़समे हैं प्यार के

जो बंधन है जन्मों के ।

avis

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sochna kaafi haseen hai , khwaab me yeh ehsaaas kitna masum lagta hai,

par kya sach me yeh uthna hi masum aur sundar hota hai?

dewaanapan kush dino me dhal jata hai janab.

how is it fair to just leave and come back later for love?

मगर मोहब्बत एक क़ैद नहीं

ये एक खुला आसमान है जहां

कोई बेड़ियाँ नहीं लोहे के

सिर्फ़ क़समे हैं प्यार के

जो बंधन है जन्मों के ।

avis

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ishq mohobaat ek khwaab hi rahe toh thik rehta hai,

agar inhe hame jiwan me utarle toh yeh utna sundar nahi rehta

how is it fair to just leave and come back later for love?

मगर मोहब्बत एक क़ैद नहीं

ये एक खुला आसमान है जहां

कोई बेड़ियाँ नहीं लोहे के

सिर्फ़ क़समे हैं प्यार के

जो बंधन है जन्मों के ।

avis

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पर कभी कभी आसमान से ज्यादा पिजरे मे सुकून मिलता है ,

जब उन्हे कैद मे रहने कि आदत हो तो मोहब्बत कि आजादी मे क्या करे पता नही होता

कभी कभी लोहे कि बेडियोसे ज्यादा भरि कसमो क बोझ होता है ,

जन्मो का बन्धन भी कभी कभी पल मे एक दुस्रो को भुल जाते है

how is it fair to just leave and come back later for love?

मगर मोहब्बत एक क़ैद नहीं

ये एक खुला आसमान है जहां

कोई बेड़ियाँ नहीं लोहे के

सिर्फ़ क़समे हैं प्यार के

जो बंधन है जन्मों के ।

avis

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kindness is not flirting

attention is not love

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The most difficult thing for humans is to love someone the way they actually are.

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neither words nor actions, intentions speak!

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