tinysoultimetravel

[tinysoultimetravel]

How tired and heartbroken must he have been when Abdul Hanan sang, "Tukray kaanch kay bikhray zameen par, chalna chahoon par, chaya hai har qadam, ye dhuaan, saans laina hai sazaa."

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I've been wanting to die for so long that the prospect of actually living scares me

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you look in the mirror and don't recognize the reflection staring back at you anymore

who are you, the whispers ask

daughter, sister, friend

(worthless, broken, mess)

who are you, the whispers insist

i am who I've always been, you say

(anxious, desperate, borderline)

the thoughts are like a maelstrom swirling in your eyes

teetering on the edge of a cliff, one step away from falling

(go on, do it, let go, the fall will be glorious )

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I took you to every place I loved, every place I found beautiful. Now, I can't go to those places anymore without feeling like my heart os being wrenched out of my chest. I let you in and it turned out that I was setting myself up to feel the most pain and hurt. Everywhere I go, I see you. You are in every thought I get, every breath I take. I would give anything to forget you anf those are words I never thought I would have to say.

[tinysoultimetravel]

When Faiz Ahmad Faiz said, "kahin toh karwan-e-dard ki manzil thehar jaye"

And when Talha Anjum said, "kabhi thi ho wo shaam ke dil pe bhaari pan na ho"

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When Fyodor Dostoevsky said, "You were destined for me. Perhaps as a punishment."

And when Jaun Elia said, "tum mujh ko jaan kar hi padi ho azaab mein, aur is tarah khud apni saza ban gaya hoon main."

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How heartbroken must have they been to write so beautifully? What is it about heartbreak that inspires the most soul wrenching words? From the poets of olde, like Jaun, Ghalib and Faiz to the new age urban street poets like Young Stunners, from Kafka to Hozier, from Austen to Gibran, their best works have had heartbreak in them. While there is no disagreement about happiness inspiring great works, they do not invoke the same kind of words that despair does, and that is the most beautiful irony of all.

[tinysoultimetravel]

Loneliness - Oppressive silence. The thoughts in your head feeling like neon signs, bright and beckoning towards your own doom.

You don't know what day or time it is anymore. Life continues to go on but you're stuck within yourself, spiralling downwards. You aren't sure you want to get out either.

You pray and plead to the Gods you aren't sure exist anymore. There is no answer. That is the most damning of all, that even they have forsaken you.

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I hate you (but I love you)

I don't know who you are anymore (sometimes I think I never did)

I don't want to see you ever again (but I can't live without you)

I wish it would all end (I want to live, to thrive and to fly)

[tinysoultimetravel]

When E.E Cummings said, "Yours is the light by which my spirit's born - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars."

When Mohammad Rafi saab sang, "Chaudhvin ka chand ho, ya aaftaab ho, jo bhi ho tum Khuda ki kasam, laajawab ho."

When Bashir Badr said, "ik deevar pe chaand tika tha, main ye samjha tum baithe ho."

When Wajid Shaikh said, "Teri yaad chaand ki shakal mein ubhar kar aati hai."

- the age old tradition of comparing your lover to the moon.

[chaand teri roshni ka halka sa ek saaya hai]

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There are words inside me and I don't know how to make them coherent. I don't know how to put them together. I don't know what I am doing anymore. I am starting to think I never did.

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When Jaun Elia said, "meri har baat be-asar hi rahi, nuqs hai kuchh mere bayaan mein kya"

When Franz Kafka said, "I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable."

When Mizra Ghalib said, "vo na samjhe hai, na samjhenge meri baat."

When Talha Yunus said, "na samjhe meri baat to kiyu lafzon ka mohtaaj hu."

[tinysoultimetravel]

Iss gham bhari duniya mein aakhir kon kiska hai? Kon paraya aur kon apna? Hazaron lakhon log apne apne zindagi jeete rahe hai. Koi na jaane kisi ki mann aur dil mein kya chalta hai. Dard mein khoye huye poori zindagi nikal jaati hai. Tanhai dost ban jaati hai. Dil toot ke phir jud jaata hai par kabhi pehle ki tarah nhi ho sakta. Aakhir sukoon kab milega?

[tinysoultimetravel]

Anxiety - It feels like a knot in your chest. A sickness in the pit of your stomach. The thoughts hit you, inexplicable and unrelenting. 

You're fighting an invisible enemy that has taken over your mind and body. You plaster on a fake smile and try to hide the signs, but you're one step away from breaking.

You eventually get tired of trying. You stop fighting, surrender to the pull of the thoughts. You dare your mind, do your worst, and it whispers back, I already have.

[tinysoultimetravel]

You're like a magnetic force, and I'm iron. You're irresistible. But I'll let you in on a little secret. Even if you were resistible, I would be putty in your hands, cause you're just that magical. If there was picture for perfect in the dictionary, it would be your picture. Angels look at you and weep in envy because they know they would never be able to match the level of perfection that you are. Every cell of my body calls out to you, I yearn for you in every moment that I'm away from you. If it was the last day on earth, the day of the apocalypse and the day of judgement, I would long for nothing except to see your face and hear your voice until oblivion

[tinysoultimetravel]

When Franz Kafka said, "I am not well, I could have built the pyramids with the effort it takes me to cling onto life and reason."

When Frida Kahlo said, "I hope the exit is joyful and I hope never to return."

When Elizabeth Wurtzel said, "I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I'm being drowned by some kind of black wave."

And when Jaun Elia said, "Har haal mein hasne ka hunar paas tha jinke, woh rone lage hai, toh koi baat toh hogi."

[tinysoultimetravel]

When Franz Kafka wrote, "I long for you; I who usually longs without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you."

When Hasrat Mohani said, "chahat meri chahat hee nahi aap ke nazdik, kuch meri haqiqat hi nahi aap ke nazdik"

When Vladimir Nabokov said, "Today I can't write about anything except my longing for you."