You’ve no idea how hard I’ve looked for a gift to bring You.
Nothing seemed right.
What’s the point of bringing gold to the gold mine, or water to the Ocean.
Everything I came up with was like taking spices to the Orient.
It’s no good giving my heart and my soul because you already have these.
So, I’ve brought you a mirror.
Look at yourself and remember me.
~Jalaluddin Rumi
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11 years ago
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see me in you reminds me of:
Kanp uthti hun mein ye soch ke tanhai me
Mera chehre pe tera nam na parrh le koi
Jis tarha khwab mere ho gaye reza reza
Is tarha na kabhi toot kar bikhre koi
~ Parveen shakir
=))
Wcked ideas coming to my mind ;P
I don't hate it when i close my eyes and i see you there. I hate it when i know that you're not coming back, but even then, i look in the mirror and i find out that im still waiting for you to come back and rescue my soul. I hate it when i look at the sideway and remember you were there once. I hate it when i see a sign of your existance...
i can't forget
& i can't forget...
Sometimes i wish God would take away this mirror, this love, this memory, you heart, your soul, this time, this place and bring me back myself again.
~ The Girl Outside the Mirror
"Sometimes i wish God would take away this mirror, this love, this memory, you heart, your soul, this time, this place and bring me back myself again.
:( Ameen !
@Isbah: LOVE this piece of writing !
what isbah and i have been trying to say was said in colors by by Picasso:
http://www.abcgallery.com/P/picasso/picasso258.html
beautifully expressed !
thumbs up to sak and ibay (Y)
and one day while looking through a window pane he saw his reflection, and was hit by a recollection of memories, a blast from the past,a pricking conscious and a heavy heart and on a second look, he noticed a crack in his reflection that affirmed the scar in HER heart...and his heart skipped a beat...
to be continued...
"... before he can feel the pain of her scar, his eyes catch the sight of a beautiful curvy damsel walking outside the window ... and at that moment ... at that very moment he catches his breathe again. He feels an inevtitably forced stretch on his lips,his shoulders and on many other organs. He packs up his tool bag, wags his tail and sets out chasing that girl to yet leave another scar ... somewhere where it doesnt hurt him. "
it keeps continuing. :P
"...nears the girl....first tells her how splendid shes is....dat he never came across anyone like her before,dat she is the one he has always been looking for,dat its only her who can drive him towards completion, pleads her for a relationship and finally when he becomes certain of girl being down,he assures his success once again and disappears DUMPING that only girl who he said to be the one he was in search of.... WOOOooOOoooFff......Snatching another soul and putting it into his basket .... :) he definitely won the competeion of having the dandiest number of souls in his sack ;)...and hence can declare himself a WINNER!!! "
and he contineus to win..... :P
rumi is gonna zap us all down !
:D
Goodness Sak... nicely written... almost took my breath away! :)
@isbah: oh really ! .. thanks ;)
it took a lot away from me too ... u know what i mean ;) :P
Cant quite believe how stereotype people are around here, so much distrust...
@ DODO
In a world filled with hate, we must still dare to hope. In a world filled with anger, we must still dare to comfort. In a world filled with despair, we must still dare to dream. And in a world filled with distrust, we must still dare to believe.
Dare to believe! :P
"... WINNER!...
the loud echo of his words reverberating in his own imagination knock him out of his reverie. his eyes focused once again on the crack before him. instinctively he ran his fingers gently across the face of glass. the razor sharp edges of the crack split open the skin of his index finger drawing an innocent drop of blood. 'ahh!!', he gasped and sucked hard on his finger. the blood and his pain brought home to him the reality of the scar he had seen in that cracked window pane. he grimaced... "
how did rumi's almost transcendent concept lead to this narrative?
With his head down, a heavy mind and a sinking heart he managed to lift himself and settle at a bench nearby.
He sat there like a stone, not moving, not hearing, not blinking, gradually slipping deeper into the cyclone of thoughts.He lost track of time. Hours later he found himself sitting isolated in a dark corner on a cold bench soaked in rain.
Rain, Rain, Rain, she loved rain he told himself..Her cheerful overjoyed look at the arrival of summer rain crossed his mind. He got up and stood by the lamp post by the bus stop. It was all coming back to him.Her sweet memory was soothing his mind till his eyes set on a puddle next to his feet. Rain water kept accumulating into the puddle. He saw his reflection in it and once again got entrapped in his mind..the hideousity of his betrayal, his ruthless words, his selfishness, his ego, his cowardice... all cutting his own innerself like blades.....
to be continued
very nicely written Saira!:)
But such consientious writings can only be a product of a very wishful and creative mind! The reality, however is more cruel, with a another "prettier" girl always exciting them to choose "shughal" over the slightest form of penitence.
Nahee na, sub aisay nahee hotay :)
mana kay there are wolves out there (Sheikh Hamza-Islamic scholar refers to such a category of men as wolves) but Men of Honor do exist. They do They do. sak, they do. And some of those who do wrong, do realize their wrong doing and consequently repent, remorse, correct themselves and turn to the right path.
May Allah protect all brothers and sisters from evil men & women and May Allah set us all right.
Sometime in our break, i would want you to give me an example of one such man who repented and corrected his wrongdoing in that concern. And then i'll believe you :P.
As far as im concerned, being with me everyday, must have given you enough examples by now (:P :)) to support my side of the story.
And being with you assures me that (fortunately) you've never had a chance to know any such wolf (ShukerAllah). That is why i believe its wishful thinking from your side.
P.S. wolves is too much of a decent word for such men, I refer to them as pigs.
"...cold, dark and lonely he sat shivering in the autumn rain. unruly streamlets of water coursed randomly down from his matted hair. droplets of water sat clinging to his eyelashes, a jury staring back into his eyes, witnessing his guilt and sorrow. he did not blink. tiny rivulets, surrogate tears, traced the lines on his face, irritating his eyes, tickling his nostrils, wetting his lips. still he remained motionless, emotionless. oblivious.
he didn't mean it to be this way.
they hadn't meant it to be this way.
when did the happiness vanish? where did the joy disappear?
what did he do wrong? no, no! how could he have gone wrong?
how could he have given it all away...
they had laughed and joked about silly little things; her crooked toe, his eccentric aunt, their clueless friends ... yeah, it was not so long a go. if he reached his arm out far enough surely he felt he could have touched the memory. however, he felt in himself no desire to depart from his numbness. the rain beat about him drumming up a mad racket. yet as the past streamed in front of his glassy eyes he could not hear the music. "those who danced were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music". and certainly he found no humor today in recounting the anecdotes that had earlier sent him doubling over with laughter. how secure they had felt in each other's presence.
it happened to other couples.
how silly were these people! silly fools.
they, however, had nothing to fear. what possibly could come between them?
yeah. what had come between them? he wished he knew."
Sak, I only defend the category of good men. You can't generalize that all men are crappy...Nopes buddy, thats being unfair.By no means did I intend to defend or speak in favor of the pigs.No ways! Never :)
well, i believe theres nothing called "good men". Men is itslef an adjective. But i guess its the same as saying "those who danced were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music". And therefore im marked pessimistic :P
Jo na jannay, beyshak na mannay
Jo pehchannay woh batlaye kyon?
~khany
:P :)
".. he wished he knew.
he was easily pleased, wasn't choosy nor demanding. not above appreciating the small things in life. he just wanted a relatively comfortable life, a little recognition for his individuality, and some joy along the way. just this much, that is all. it was not too much to ask for. right? he wasn't desirous of a palace. it wasn't like he had asked for the world's riches. he could even see the necessity and the value of occasional grief, of hardship, and of trial to make life more meaningful. but this.. this!!.. this was not grief. noO. it was not a challenge. it might as well have been the end of his life.
the rain had petered down to a drizzle. the numbness had persisted. his stare was fixed on the edge of the track that wound its way through the park gliding between the benches. he observed individual pebbles in turn following the sharp outlines of their silhouette against the grey featureless grey of the wet cobbled track glittering in the moonlight.
love, he had read, was 'the raw material from which the universe was built'. its 'energy can't be manipulated'; those who try to reign over it end up 'desperate, frustrated and disillusioned'. rather love is 'free and wild'. he had personally seen too many examples of controlling relationships masquerading under the guise of love. and he wasn't going to let his love suffer a similar fate. so he had decided to give their love full rein. they were not going to throttle their love with their own hands.
he wrung his hands in angst despite the fond memories.
their love blossomed. their trust deepened. everyone they met, anywhere they went, told them that there was a glow surrounding them. it must have been 'true love'. so was their love reinforced; their belief in each other rendered unshakeable. so intimate they had become that they began to live the truth of love free and wild. it was no longer a principle but a reality. restraint was a product of suspicion. in turn it breeds greater distrust. structure and framework, an obcession with rights and obligations, were the crutches of weak-minded people who cannot cope with the uncertainty that comes from observing freedom.
so how was it that following the right path brought him to the wrong destination? .. to this stage in his life. didn't freedom imply that he follow his every impulse? he had so much trust in their relationship, it had been tangible. was he blinded by this trust when he refused to question his own actions?
was he going crazy? he was falling into the same trap as those people he so despised! he shook his head in disbelief. what place could fear possibly have in a relationship based on love?!"
beautifully written
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