theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

“…Spring is soon to come, yet I feel as though in this lively season there shall be no fecundity. You are gone, yet the seasons never change. My heart is stuck in winter and you are flourishing in spring, bringing life to everything , and I am here, cold and yearning…”.

- Excerpt from a journal

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

“Lastly, I make this vow, that mine eyes desire you above all things.”

- Katharine, the Quene.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

« J'ai un visage lacéré de rides sèches et profondes, à la peau cas-sée. Il ne s'est pas affaissé comme certains visages à traits fins, il a gardé les mêmes contours mais sa matière est détruite. J'ai un visage détruit. »

- L’amant, Marguerite de Duras.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

حدودِ عشق کے زمانے میں عشقِ دل کرنے والے کا کیا؟

نجاتِ فرض کس طرح اپنایں اگر بابِ محبت پر ہاتھ نہ لا پایں

- سامی

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

I had never found interest in stories of monsters, ghouls, and ungodly demons. My home was filled plenty with monsters so far from likeness to those found in stories, that if I were to speak I think they shall say I am truly mad to have put up with it all and not lost myself. It is perhaps now that I see past what was once an accepted reality as something much worse. My home was a horror story - a place where no soul could pass without having itself darted dreadful by its hellish heat. The hot air of my father’s nefarious spirit made my soul rotten bulbous and brûlée, neither was my mother quick to close the door to stop this avaricious air from entering, always keeping it half-open in silent servitude, and at times I forgot my sisters bore it’s burn too. For so much to have been stuffed into such small a surrounding, it is a marvel I still take pen to paper and write. To write is a mercy for those who have had their tongues sliced soullessly; I have come to this conscious understanding, and if they shall cut my hands? I shall become words and phrases and throw myself to make show what thoughts in my mind do sow. It is perhaps nature that has dictated I be this way - fork-tongued, vituperative to those who see oppression imperative, silent with a poignard not of steel but of that flesh which winds words of mind to men among, always ready to speak. At times I praised this ability, forgetting that my weapon was weak, in that it was a part of me and from me it could be taken. Where then would my words wounding be if my tongue be bereft of me? So I remained silent, fed my shame, and spent my languid days till on my head came greys.

My own house of horrors, Sami.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

Le regret m’obsède que j’en ai presque une peur de lâcher cette pensée si gelée et unique en moi. Me plonger là-dedans n’avait rien de fructueux mais quelque désir en moi, tantôt noble et intellectuel, tantôt envahissant et inquisiteur me ferait frôler vers ce chemin obscur. Dès ces derniers jours, tout est devenu immobile, d’une immobilité qui s'effondre mes efforts. Je n'ai rien d’autre à faire que m’immobiliser. Il est observable ce monde qui m’entoure - c’est un monde sans gravitation, complètement sans mouvement.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

Everything is too warm - both heart and body swell with great waves of melancholic heat, that I can no longer find that winter’s comfort in my blankets embrace. Summer is a simple season and I miss the sweet extravagance and fecundity of spring; the bird’s play, the spirit of spring, when there was swells of joy in everything. For now I must make patience and hope for the cold again; a search for warmth in winter is better than summer’s languid heat.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

Men fear melancholy and make haste to build an army against her. This is their issue; as for me, I was never afraid, for I had known that there was finally something that was greater than me, something that could take all of me whole and true, something that could hold me as mother does to babe and make me feel for once that there is not too much of me. In many ways, melancholy became my mother; an embrace with thorns but at least she could bear the burden of my being too much and for this I content myself to say I am held and well.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

I found that I was never too comfortable in one personality; one day I was the eccentric, then next the weeping ascetic. At times I was the whore, then in sight of the shameful thing I became the devotee crying: “let me be pure”. True it is, that I am bound to this wayward way of being everything because to be myself is perhaps the greatest and sacrilegious of sins.

A rancorous shame.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

‏‎اس دنیا کی چار طرفوں سے چھائی ہو گئ اور اپ کی خاموشی ہم کوحالتِ خوف میں گرفتار کر دیا ہے

The four corners of this earth have become obscured in darkness and your silence has imprisoned me in such a fearful state.

Les quatre coins de ce monde sont pris par l’obscurité et votre silence m’a coincé dans une telle existence où domine la peur.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

‎‏‎زخمِ محبت ہم نےآغوش کی اوراس کے لیے ہم نے مسترد کیا اور کبھی کبھی زبان پر فقط ایک نام کا منظر رہا، تو کیا جانے محبوب تو تو رب سے کبھی خوف نہیں کیا

رنجشِ عشق

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

I welcomed thorn-rosed memories, knowing with all my conscience that it would come to prick at me, leaving me nothing but a body dressed in sanguine and a soul in strips. From this came a pleasure, perverse as it may seem, it comforts and echoes the material of those memories in mind wondering enclosed. True it is, that melancholy is mercifully cruel; on one end she is the reminding hand of the past to hold on tight, on the other she is the dagger that pierces hearts. The fault was not mine, for I could not discern her ambivalent nature, and when I had thought to pull her reminding hand to be close at heart, I found myself in great torment, seeing that I had with that very dagger my own heart pierced.

Sami

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

Were I to take pen to paper and bring my sorrow to words, a great mess would be witnessed. Such is the magnitude of my heart’s grief, that even my pen weeps at the weighty task of defining the whole thing.

Sami

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

Un tel pressentiment frôle par l’esprit, que j’ai ni le pouvoir ni l’effort d’affronter son état intangible. Tantôt présent, tantôt immobile, ce sentiment assombrit le cœur et fait ébranler le corps et me rend inutile à tel point, que moi, je n’arrive plus à vaquer à mes occupations nécessaires. La honte et la peur me mettent entre eux et amorcent à m’écraser. Je n’ai point l’effort d’aborder la profondeur de ces sentiments; sonder ne sert à rien, tout ce que je suis capable de faire, c’est de supplicier, dans l’espérance que Dieu entendra mes cris de lamentation.

Une honte qui s’accroche au bat du cœur, Sami.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

I crave tragedy and chaos as though it were a savour on tongue never left. True it is, that I was born into chaos and cannot depart from it - I am too narrow, as the sea is to its margins bound, as am I too, ever more narrow and firm in chaos and tragedy. I am all the while passionate to release energy for sustained serenity, yet incapable of moving beyond and away from this tempestuous condition.

An incapacity, or rather a crushing freedom, Sami.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

I find that my pitiful passion has no purpose nor reward. My days are spent with such miserable laments, that I fear all hope that had sustained my poor state will be lost. Where once solitude was a comfort, I come to discover that it is rather a curse of an ignorance in which I am too willing to comply. In such moments it is imperative to supplicate for more, yet I find myself ever more willing to accept what the current is rather than trying for what the current could be.

Le temps viendra, Sami.

[theseathatswallowedvirginiawoolf]

La honte m’obsède et j’ai presque envie de me plonger dans le lourd de réflexion sur cette honte. Un véritable enfer dans lequel chaque coin me raconte les mêmes histoires. Je m’en doute que je suis marié à la honte sans en avoir eu la conscience ni l’esprit de lutter contre cette union malheureuse. Je tiens mon cœur qui lamente dans la main et je le jette au-delà d’ici, dans l’espérance que Dieu me fera la miséricorde d'entendre ses cris.

Lamentation d’une âme pécheresse, Sami.