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एक दिन वे सब हमें छोड़कर चले जाएंगे जो हमें कभी नहीं छोड़ना चाहते हैं। तब हम अपने आप के साथ, दुनिया के किसी एक कोने में पड़े रहेंगे—लेकिन हम पड़े-पड़े सड़ेंगे नहीं और शायद खिलेंगे भी नहीं। छूट जाने को हम विश्वासघात नहीं, किसी विपदा की तरह देखेंगे। हम कुछ देर बाद उस कोने से उसी प्रेम के साथ उठेंगे जिसने हमें हर क्षण, जीवन की सुंदरता का अनुभव कराया और जीवन की क्रूरता को क्षणिक सिद्ध किया। कहाँ-कहाँ से हम छूटे और किस-किस को हमने छोड़ा, इससे बहुत आगे बढ़कर भी, प्रेम के प्रभाव में हम देखेंगे दूर तक कहीं पीछे। उन जगहों को हम दूर से देखकर, अपनी तय की हुई दूरी का अंदाज़ा लगाएंगे। और किसी भी दिशा से देखने पर न हम पीड़ित होंगे न दोषी और न ही वह क्षण। किसी से विदा लेते या किसी को विदा करते हुए हमारे आँसू हमारी अनुमति के बिना ही बहने लगते हैं। हम आँसू छुपाने के लिए दायें-बायें देखते हैं, लेकिन हम उस समय, उस व्यक्ति के सिवा किसी को नहीं देखना चाहते। हम दर्ज़ करना चाहते हैं—छूटना और छोड़ना। छोड़ना और छूट जाना संभवतः इस कृत्रिम दुनिया की सबसे बड़ी वास्तविकता है। हम नियमित रूप से छूटते हैं और दूसरों क...

  Let me go now. It is neither easy for me nor for the love I have cherished. You can hold my hand, but we can't ignore what destiny has planned for us. Let me suffer alone. I can't bear to see both of us suffering and bleeding without shedding a single tear. Now is the only time we will suffer less—for the first and last time, we should cry happily. Dear, let me remember it as a cold breeze that touched my soul, and let you forget it as a healed scar on your body. I know I was naive to promise that I would always be there for you, but one promise I will try to fulfil until I lose myself is to write to you. I will not let anything come between me and inking my love to you. So, if I cannot stand against hardships, I will let my inked words be the warrior. Let me go, my dear—so far that you can't see the changes in me. You will feel betrayed without any betrayal. Believe me, I was honest, and honestly, I can't imagine betraying you, even in my nightmares. Actually, Dostoe...

  Can I write you letters instead of giving you my heart? I can be insanely in love with you without being insane. Your love has given me the voice that was constantly forgetting its language. I can't stop writing to you about you. If words fall short, I would even love to effortlessly write a letter full of dots. You might wonder why I chose letters. Perhaps I have only one answer to this—why not letters? I have nothing to say to the rest of the world, but when it comes to communicating with you, I have an entire world filled with events and stories to share.  I will write to you until I forget you are far away—too far from my world. Letters help me to reach out to you. Coincidences in my life seem to happen, achieving now, a sense of normalcy. Dear, as I am writing this to you, Ahmad Faraz Sahab's Ghazal is playing in the voice of Mehdi Hassan Sahab.  ranjish hī sahī dil hī dukhāne ke liye aa aa phir se mujhe chhoḌ ke jaane ke liye aa When my body attains its final dest...

Dear, may I continue to remember you in every vibrant moment? I hope I am not asking too much. No, I shan't disturb you during your free time. As long as you permit me to be near you, I would love to see you. You have become the most beautiful image, one that I find increasingly enchanting each time. I long to keep capturing you through my imperfect eyes—my flawless dear. Capturing you for the days when I can't see you has become part of my routine. You are ingrained in my life like a soul. You are going miles away. May I have your dreams? If you would allow me, may I beseech God to bring you into my life once more? You stayed here, but it wasn't enough—neither for me nor for my little life. Longing for you is akin to living for something. That is something I never want to cease longing for. If you ever come my way, you will see the charm in my eyes, which was born from seeing you at first. Your glimpse has made me realise how beautiful one can be. Now, when I cannot touch ...

  I have never lied to you—I've just never stated the truth. I kept quiet when it came to expressing my love for you. Despite you questioning me multiple times how much I love you, I could never truly convey the depth of my feelings. Love is not a measurable entity; it is childish to ask and even answer such questions. Keeping it a mystery fosters a continual effort to understand its magnitude. There would be innumerable answers to how much. One might be— I loved you more than myself. But this is a lucid lie, as I never loved myself, so how could I? Being in love with you made me contemplate loving oneself as it is about being kind. I had always been harsher on myself than allowing the world. Love makes one the kindest. When you were here, I was kinder; now that you are gone, I think I am almost the kindest to the world, yet there comes a time to be kind to oneself. My dear, I loved you; that was the truth, but the fact is, I never knew just how much. No answer could justify my lo...

My dear, before the world shatters our dreams, let’s continue dreaming within the dream. In hundreds of nightmares, the dream of us being together would make me fearless, even though I am frightened by all worldly dreams. All the abstract things that look at me would affirmatively present me as a dreamer. The moon, the stars, and the nights push me to dream—dreams of beauty amidst the scattered ugliness. When you walked past me, it never felt like a dream. You slowly became a dream in my life, my dear—the dream I want to bring to reality. But this dream is shielded by all the uncertainties, jewelled with different nightmares. Keep visiting me in my dreams, as it won’t harm my waking life. There, we would meet and dream together. Sometimes, I see death in my dreams. Every time I find death standing near me, coldness is felt, and the life I’ve lived flashes in front of my eyes. Death is so kind, as it returns with the simple reminder: dream, my dear, as much as you can before I come ...

  मैं उस क्षण में प्राण छोड़ना चाहती हूँ, जिस क्षण घर लौटना दिनचर्या का हिस्सा होने के बजाय, एक सपना बन जाता है। वह क्षण आकर गुज़र गया, घर लौटना एक सपना हो गया; मैं प्राण नहीं छोड़ सकीं क्योंकि उस क्षण ने अपने घटित होने को अज्ञात रखा। मेरा जीवन बच गया, मैं बच गई और घर में देखे गए सपने सहानुभूति देने के लिए बगल में खड़े रह गए। घर लौटने का सपना इतना आम है कि हम सब भी मिलकर घर लौटना चाहें तो भी घर लौट नहीं सकते, घर खोज नहीं सकते और घर का दफ़्न इतिहास खोद नहीं सकते। सिसकते हुए, दौड़ते हुए, आँखें मूंदकर और आँखें खोलकर, हम अब किसी भी तरह से घर नहीं लौट सकते। एक झूठी मान्यता, जिसने सदियों से अपने आप को सच स्थापित कर लिया है| हम उस सच को आत्मसात करते हुए, आगे बढ़ गए कि एक उम्र के बाद घर छूट जाता है और बची हुई उम्र में हमें ख़ुद घर बनना पड़ता है। शायद हम घर कभी नहीं हो सकते, लेकिन मानचित्र पर छूट चुका घर बार-बार घर के छायाचित्र में उगता है, किसी सूरज की तरह। सूरज का उगना आशा का प्रतीक है, शायद घर लौटने का भी। घर की स्मृतियाँ ही हमें घर की निरंतर कमी महसूस कराती है।मकानों में घुसते हुए, थका-...

  A frame hangs on the wall opposite the table where I sit to breathe. For so long, it went unnoticed, merely a part of the decor—just another painting. After days of staring at it, I cannot determine whether I perceive it as an intriguing painting or a reflection of reality. It narrates a story of departure, or perhaps waiting. I imagine myself standing there. When someone close to me departed, my eyes didn’t blink until his figure completely vanished. My world, which had included him, contracted as he walked away. I remained there weeping, wishing, and waiting. So many calendars have changed since then, but it still feels like this very evening. The world witnessed the sunset with hope, and so did I, though hopeless. Departures haunt me, scratching at scars that have yet to heal. Still, the void chases me. Memories knock at the door at midnight. The frame remains static, while all dynamics push me toward the state of departure. Everything feels heartbreaking, drowning in a sea of...

  Writing to you in the past tense makes my present ache. I never wrote to you when you were here, as I never thought you would not be. No day ends without reminding me of you, leaving me thinking of writing to you. Dear, I want to express what my heart has held for a long time. I cannot even think of how long it has been. I want to write about feelings, about you and me, but not us now. I wish you could read the pauses. Nobody else can read the silences, but I believe you can. Read them, but don't reply from wherever you are. Just read... My eyes are still teary. I can see your reflection, you as you were. I do not wish to see the new you, as it might shatter the image I have captured of you. You belong everywhere except here. I am searching for my belongings, for everything that could stop my aching.    ~A

  Dear Beautiful, why are you not in my life? You symbolise every beautiful thing—every beautiful thing reminds me of you. Every tune that lingers in my mind, every frame that ages with time, every plant that I water, every stretch of sky, every opening sentence in my thoughts, and every sunrise and sunset. You are everywhere yet absent from my life. I am destined to crave you. I envision you all around me, yet I hesitate to picture you in my life; it is so dreamy that it would shatter all my dreams. I can't stop writing to you. You keep coming to my mind like nostalgia. I am not glorifying you because my mumbled words won't do justice to your true glorification. I am merely someone who loves beauty. How long will I be addicted to your beauty? I am envious of it. I struggle to appreciate such beauty. Think of me sometimes. Think of this dreamy one. Write to me occasionally. I would attempt to read as a child and keep it safe as a parent. You are too far away. At the very ...

  कौन से सिरे को पकड़कर, हर सिरे से छुटकारा पाया जा सकता है? कितना गिरकर, गिरने का भय ख़त्म हो जाता है? कितना प्रेम, प्रेम में बने रहने के लिए ज़रूरी होता है? कितनी लंबी सांस भीतर लेकर, सांस छोड़ने पर सांस का मोह छूट जाता है? कितनी दूर तक देखने पर, पीछे का दिखना धुंधला हो जाता है? कितना पढ़ने पर, अभी बहुत पढ़ना बाकी है, थोड़ा कम हो जाता है? कितने जीवन को छूकर गुजरने पर, अपना जीवन छुई-मुई के पौधे की तरह लगना बंद हो जाता है? कौन सा प्रश्न है, जिसका उत्तर मिलने पर और उत्तरों की अभिलाषा से आदमी विरक्त हो जाता है? कभी-कभी स्वयं को भी आश्चर्य होने लगता है कि कितने सारे सवालों से घिरी रहती हूँ या  ख़ुद को सवालों के घेरे में धकेलना, अपने लिए की गई साज़िश का एक हिस्सा है। सवालों की उलझनों के बाद भी अपना साम्य नहीं खोती हूँ। स्मृतियों में खोई-खोई जब थक जाती हूँ, तो चंद मिनटों की एक छोटी यात्रा, खुले आकाश के नीचे, खुली हवा में सांस लेने निकल जाती हूँ। एक छोटी सी यात्रा सही, सवालों की उथल-पुथल से कुछ देर के लिए निजात मिल जाती है। जितना कुछ बाहर है, उससे अनगिनत गुना ज़्यादा भीतर है। म...