Romanized version:

Uski yaadon ke sheher me rehna ab gunah lagta hai,
Kambakht dil ka rasta phir bhi whi ja kar rukta hai.
Raabta rakhne ka haq toh kab ka kho chuke hum,
phir bhi har sajde me usi ka zikr hota hai.

Kabhi agar mulaqat ho, aur wo poochhe humse-
"Yaad krti ho mujhe?"
Aur hum ek hi dafa me kehdein-
"jaa…bhool gye hum tujhe."

Ye daawa hai hamara, hume bhoola dena-
Itna aasaan bhi nahi hoga…
Hum wo yaad nahi jo waqt mita de,
Hum wo aadat hain jo tere andar Ta-umar zinda rhega.

Dekhega jab jab us chaand ko falak pe usme aks hamara payega.
Tu jahan bhi sukoon dhoondega,
Thoda sa khalipan zaroor milega.
Kyunki hum wo qurbat the…jis sa koi shakhs na hoga.

Hum toot kar bikharne walo me se nahi
Yaad rakhna….
Har kisi ke muqaddar me
Hum sa toot kr chahne wala na hoga!!!

~Ravaani

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Hindi version:

उसकी यादों के शहर में रहना अब गुनाह लगता है,
कमबख़्त दिल का रास्ता फिर भी वहीं जाकर रुकता है।
राब्ता रखने का हक़ तो कब का खो चुके हम,
फिर भी हर सजदे में उसी का ज़िक्र होता है।

कभी अगर मुलाक़ात हो, और वो पूछे हमसे–
“याद करती हो मुझे ?”
और हम एक ही दफ़ा में कह दें–
“जा… भूल गए हम तुझे।”

ये दावा है हमारा, हमें भुला देना–
इतना आसान भी नहीं होगा…
हम वो याद नहीं जो वक़्त मिटा दे,
हम वो आदत हैं जो तेरे अंदर ता-उम्र ज़िंदा रहेगा।

देखेगा जब-जब उस चाँद को फ़लक पे, उसमें अक्स हमारा पाएगा।
तू जहाँ भी सुकून ढूँढेगा,
थोड़ा सा ख़लिपन ज़रूर मिलेगा।
क्योंकि हम वो क़ुर्बत थे… जिस सा कोई शख़्स न होगा।

हम टूट कर बिखरने वालों में से नहीं
याद रखना…
हर किसी के मुक़द्दर में
हम सा टूट कर चाहने वाला न होगा

~रवानी

For the past two years, every march has whispered the same story.
another year of struggle, another year of fighting myself, another year of standing between expectations and hope.
And every time, it feels like I am losing a little more than the year before.

An exam that once looked like a dream- a destination slowly turned into a battlefield that demanded sacrifices. Time, sleep, laughter, friendships, hobbies, peace of mind- everything was placed on the altar of ambition.
And in return, it often felt like life handed me nothing but exhaustion.

Or may be ……. just may be…. I was gaining something invisible.
I did not know then. I am still figuring it out now.

13th March 2025
There are many dates in life that carve themselves into memory like permanent ink. This was one more addition to that list or say I’d never forget this date.

The day I stood outside the door of my therapist for my very first counselling session.
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that one day I would be the person sitting in that chair- the person needing help. I had always been that one who helped others. I had pulled out of their darkest phases, again and again, not once, twice, thrice- but countless times. I had been the listener, the guide, the problem solver - the strong one.
And yet, there I was.

Broken in ways I didn’t even understand.

The day before that appointment was chaos disguised as a normal day. Repeated emotional breakdowns, back-to-back anxiety attacks, uncontrollable emotions, sleepless nights, constant pressure, endless self-expectations- everything collided at once. It felt as if years of suppressed pain had been waiting for the right moment to erupt.
And then it did.

My inner soul simply refused to carry the weight any longer.
So, it collapsed.
Someone has said very right ‘‘Sometimes, even the strongest one needs a shoulder to lean on.’’

So, the next morning, my father decided to take me to a therapist.

I thought the toughest part would be walking into that hospital.
I was wrong.

The toughest moment came when my therapist asked my father a simple question- something ordinary. but his response was anything not ordinary.
he broke down.

Through tears, he said words that pierced deeper than any failure ever could.
“Out of all my children, she is the youngest- yet the strongest. she has guided everyone in this family, even me. And now she is in this state. I can’t afford to see her falling apart like this. Please do something. I can’t watch her suffer.’’

I could hear him sobbing.
but I didn’t have the strength to look into his eyes. I was numb.

However, we collected medicines & came back home in silence- the kind of silence that feels heavier than noise. Noone knows what happened inside the cabin that day.

That evening, I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling for hours.
My mind kept repeating the same question:
What had you planned, Nasreen… & what is happening now?

I had always dreamed of a different moment- a proud one.
I had imagined taking my father to Dholpur house one day, watching him smile with satisfaction, seeing relief in his eyes.

Instead, I had made him stand in a therapist’s ward, concerned for his daughter.
This was not what he deserved.

I have never been someone who intentionally causes pain to others- not even discomfort. I have always tried to protect people around me, to keep them safe emotionally, mentally, physically. That has always been my nature.

And yet, the one person I wanted to protect the most - my father- was the one I saw breaking down because of me. That thought shattered something inside me.

I kept asking myself again and again:

How could you let this happen?
How could you become the reason of his tears?

Whenever anything goes wrong in my life or in the lives of people I love involving me - I automatically blame myself. I become my own hardest critic. I hold myself responsible for everything, even for minute things.
something that has always been my strength that day, felt like my burden.

In that vulnerable state, another painful realization surfaced.
I had lost almost everything.

My mental health was hanging by thread.
My confidence had cracked.
My hopes felt fragile.
My self-expectations - once my biggest driving force -now feels like heavy chains around my neck.

My social life had nearly disappeared.
My hobbies had faded into distant memories.
My life graph looked static - kind of stuck. while the world around me kept progressing.

Every day was the same routine: juggling with books, notes, mocks, schedules, deadlines.
And in return, what did i had in my hands?
Nothing visible.
Nothing measurable.
Nothing certain.

In the deepest corner of my helplessness & vulnerability. I wrote a line that came straight from exhaustion rather than poetry:
At 1:47 am~

‘‘Aye Khuda- ye jo tu kar rha hai, sehna Dushwaar hai.
Dil toh ab thak chuka hai, bta aur kitni Aazmaayisho ki Darkaar hai?’’

At that time, I had no answer to this question.
For the first time in my life, I felt truly helpless.

Then came the hardest question of all- the one no exam paper ever asks:

Is it worth it, Nasreen?

Every time I had hit rock bottom in the past, I had always told myself the same thing:

you have faced problems before. You have figured them out before. And you will figure this out too.

But this time felt different. Because this time the battle was not outside. It was inside my own mind. And that is the most exhausting wat a human being can fight. Slowly another truth emerged from the chaos:
Mental health is not a joke, it’s a luxury.
It’s not a weakness. it isn’t something to ignore until it breaks you.
It is survival.

So, I sat with myself & asked one final question:

What do you still have left in your hands?

The answer was surprisingly simple. I had two things left.
Seventy days. And a fighting spirit.
That was it.

No guarantees. No certainty. No perfect conditions.
Just courage & time. And sometimes, that is enough to restart.

I decided that on the basis of these two assets, I would still play my game. even if everything was on stake. Even if the odds are uncertain. Even if the path was exhausting.
Because I realized something powerful in that moment:

If I had become the reason for my father’s tears, I will also become the reason of his smile. I will turn these sad tears into happy one’s.

That possibility was worth fighting for.

31st March 2025
Today on the last day of march, I finally have an answer to the question I once asked God in despair.
Yes- enduring this pain is difficult. Yes- the journey is exhausting. Yes - the sacrifices are real. But surrender is never an option. Because somewhere beneath the fatigue, beneath the fear, beneath the uncertainty- my fighting spirit is still alive.
And now, my answer is simple, honest & unshaken-
At 3:16 pm~

‘‘Haan sehna dushwaar hai, magar ye dard bhi mujhe qubool hai,
Kyu ki har aazmaish ke baad hi toh sukoon ka dastoor hai.’’

lock in.

~See you🩵

~See you :))))

P.S- It’s a bit intimate poem & I’m sure by the end of this poem you will have a blush on ur cheeks (umm…u can tell me in cmnt section if this was true or nt)😉
EID MUBARAK EVERYONE🫂🌸💖

Roman version:

Dil chahta hai tumhe aakhri dafa mehsoos karu,
Par ruk jati hoon- sochti hoon, kahoon bhi toh kya?

Tumhara zikr karu,
Ya uss zikr me ghuli woh shaam utaar doon?

Tumhari dhadkan likhu,
Ya apni saanson ka be-sabab behakna?

Tumhari nigahon ka noor bayan karu,
Ya unme doob kr khud ko bhool jana?

Tumhari ungliyon ki rafaaqat likhu,
Ya meri rago me behta hua wo nasha?

Tumhare dil ka wo be-hisaab mohabbat likhu,
Ya usme pighal kar apni hasti ka fanaa ho jana?

Tumhare honthon ki narmi ka afsaana bun doon,
Ya unhi honthon ko chhoo kar reh jane wali pyaas?

Tumhari saanson ki tapish likhu,
Ya apne dil par unka halka sa bojh…
Jo bojh nahi, ibadat lagta hai?

Tumhe chhuna likhu,
Ya chuune se pehle ka woh mukhtsar sa waqfa….
Jahan waqt bhi sharmaa kar theher jata hai?

Tumhe alfaazon me sametna chahoon toh harf kam padte hain,
Aur naa likhu toh seene me toofaan umadte hain.

Tum meri chahat ho ya meri aadat?
Tum jaam ho ya uska nasha?
Tum mohabbat ho ya bas panah?
Tum meri pyaas ho ya mera dariya?

Samajh nahi aata…
Tumhe likhu ya tumse likhu?
Tum par likhu ya tum tak likhu?

Jab bhi likhne baithti hoon…
Kalam ki nok se pehle
Mere zehen me tum aa jate ho.

Main andhera likhu toh tum roshni ban jaate ho,
Main jism likhu toh tum rooh ki sada ban jate ho.
Main raat likhu toh tum mehtaab ban jate ho,
Main khwahish likhu toh tum uska sukoon-e-azal ban jate ho.

Likhu toh likhu kya?
Baarish ka qatra likhu ya pyaas ka dariya?
Raat ka chand likhu ya andhere ka diya?
Tumhe khwaab likhu ya khwaab ka hasil?
Tumhe ishq likhu ya ishq ka kamil?

Haqeeqat toh ye hai…
Har misre me tum ghul jate ho,
Har safhe par tum hi tum nazar aate ho.
Har rukhsat lafz tum par aa kar theher jata hai,
Har harf tumhari qurbat ka sajda karta hai.

Toh phir aaj yahi likh deti hoon…
Tum meri har kahani ka aaghaz bhi ho,
Aur har kahani ka anjaam bhi…

Tum chahat bhi aur mohabbat bhi,
Tum ehsaas bhi aur ibadat bhi.
Tum kaynaat bhi aur qayaamat bhi,
Tum mere bhi, aur mai tumhari bhi.

~Ravaani

Meanings:
Be-sabab- without reason, cluelessly
rafaaqat- togetherness, intimate company
fanaa- to lose oneself completely
Afsaana- story, tale
Ibadat- worship
Mukhtasar sa waqfa- a brief pause
Harf- word, statement
zehen- mind
Mehtaab- the moon/ moonlight
Sukoon-e-azal- eternal peace
Kamil- perfect, complete
Misre- lines of poem
safhe- pages
Rukhsat- departure
Qurbat- closeness
Aaghaz- beginning
Anjaam- end, outcome

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Translated version:

I wish to feel you one last time,
But I pause—wondering, what could I even say?

Should I speak of you,
Or dissolve that evening into your memory?

Should I write your heartbeat,
Or my breath wandering without reason?

Should I describe the light in your eyes,
Or drown in them and forget myself?

Should I write of the warmth of your fingers,
Or the intoxication flowing through my veins?

Should I capture the boundless love of your heart,
Or melt into it and let my existence fade away?

Should I weave a tale of your lips’ softness,
Or the thirst that lingers after touching them?

Should I write of the fire in your breath,
Or the gentle weight upon my heart…
That feels less like burden, more like worship?

Should I write of touching you,
Or that fleeting pause before the touch…
Where even time blushes and stands still?

When I try to gather you in words, letters fall short,
And when I don’t write, storms rise within my chest.

Are you my desire or my habit?
Are you the wine or its intoxication?
Are you love or simply refuge?
Are you my thirst or my river?

I cannot decide…
Should I write you, or write from you?
Write upon you, or write toward you?

Whenever I sit to write…
Before the pen touches paper,
You arrive in my mind.

If I write darkness, you become light.
If I write body, you become the soul’s call.
If I write night, you become the moon.
If I write longing, you become its eternal peace.

But then—what should I write?
A drop of rain, or the ocean of thirst
The moon of night, or the lamp of shadows?
Should I write you as a dream, or the dream fulfilled?
Should I write you as love, or love perfected?

The truth is…
You seep into every verse,
You appear on every page.
Every departing word halts upon you,
Every letter bows in devotion to your nearness.

So today, I write simply this…
You are both the beginning and the end of my story.

You are desire and devotion,
You are feeling and worship.
You are the universe and the apocalypse,
You are mine, and I am yours.

~Ravaani

Nazm (Roman version)

Aaina dekha toh khud se saamna na ho paye,
Tumhara naam labon pe aaya, par bayaan na ho paaye.

Khwab likhe toh sab dhuaa bante chale gye,
Dua maangi jo toot kar, toh bhi dua mukammal na ho paaye.

Dard rakha jo dil me toh bezaar sa ho gye,
Roye jo hum toot kar, magar ye dard fana na ho paaye.

Tujhe chaha toh har rasta tujh tak hi gya,
Mod badle bhut… pr tujhse faasla na ho paaye.

Ishq bna toh darr meri rago me utar gya,
Junoon bna toh, khud pr bhi kaabu na ho paaye.

Apna kha toh khud hi ajnabi lagne lag gye,
Gair bne jo tere, toh tujhse kinara na ho paaye.

Tera hona aadat sa zrre zrre me hai bass gya,
Chhootna chahein bhi, toh ye nasha zawaal na ho paaye.

Khud ko badalte dekha, zamaane badalte rahe,
Kehti hai ‘Ravaani’- Ek tu hi hai jisse hum riha na ho paaye.

~Ravaani

Meaning:
Mukammal- fulfilled
Bezaar- fed up, emotionally exhausted
Fana- losing oneself in love
Junoon- passion, intense love
Zarre Zarre- bit by bit, every fragment
Zawaal- decline, downfall
Riha- liberated, free

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Translated Version:

I faced my mirror even I felt strange to me,
your name on my lips felt too fragile to be.

I wrote down my dreams, they turned into ash and air,
I folded them into prayers that never stayed there.

I held all the sorrow till my heart went numb and slow,
I broke into tears, yet the pain refused to go.

I walked thousand roads, they curved back into you,
I changed all directions, but none led me through.

When love filled my veins, fear followed the flame,
When passion becomes fire, I lost even my name in pain.

I called you mine, I lost who I’d been,
When tried to become stranger, yet I stayed where you’ve been.

You lived in my breath, like a habit in my bones and skin,
I tried to release you, but you stayed within.

I changed, the world kept changing, seasons passed me through,
says ‘Ravaani’- one truth stayed, I couldn’t break from you.

~Ravaani

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Hindi Version:

आईना देखा तो खुद से सामना न हो पाए,
तुम्हारा नाम लबों पे आया, पर बयान न हो पाए।

ख़्वाब लिखे तो सब धुआँ बनते चले गए,
दुआ माँगी तो भी कोई दुआ मुकम्मल न हो पाए।

दर्द रखा दिल में तो बेज़ार सा हो गया,
रोए जो टूट कर तो भी ये दर्द फ़ना न हो पाए।

तुझे चाहा तो हर रास्ता तुझ तक ही गया,
मोड़ बदले बहुत पर तुझसे फ़ासला न हो पाए।

इश्क़ बना तो डर रगों में उतर गया,
जुनून बना तो खुद पर भी काबू न हो पाए।

अपना कहा तो खुद ही अजनबी लगने लगे,
ग़ैर बने तो तुझसे किनारा न हो पाए।

तेरा होना आदत सा ज़र्रे ज़र्रे में बस गया,
छूटना चाहें भी तो ये नशा ज़वाल न हो पाए।

खुद को बदलते देखा, ज़माने बदलते रहे,
कहती है ‘रवानी’— एक तू ही है जिससे हम रिहा न हो पाए।

~रवानी

Its Ramadan & I live my days upside down- a night owl in a fasting world. so, I studied whole night right after Isha (after sunset), while the world sleeps and my thoughts stay awake. I studied till sehri, prayed fajr (before sunrise) and finally lay down around 6:25 am in morning, hoping for rest.

but rest didn’t come.

Barely thirty minutes later, I woke up to a pain in stomach so sharp it felt like my body had declared war on itself. no, it’s not periods pain. it’s probably something because of fried things that I ate last night because when it’s about food, I’m foodieeee. yes foodieee. while eating I’m like: “who cares let it come we’ll look into it later. but I can’t bear to watch what is happening now.’’

now fasting means- no medicine, no relief, no escape. only endurance. only surrender.

for two hours, I lay turning and tossing on my bed, staring at the ceiling, bargaining with silence, cursing - fate? circumstances? existence? - to be honest I don’t even know who. The injustice of it all burned inside me: suffering for things I never invited, pain I never chose, battles I never signed up for. physical pain ruled everything, it was excruciating, dominant, absolute.

after a constant struggle I drifted into deep slumber don’t know when.

I woke up in the afternoon. walked downstairs. came back within minutes. the day felt heavy - not tired, not lazy just…. unprocessable.one of those days where your mind thinks one language, your heart speaks another and your body understands neither. nothing is aligned. nothing is synchronized. nothing makes sense.

I tried to sleep again. the moment I closed my eyes, they returned.
Memories. A huge spate of memories.
uninvited. unannounced. merciless.

memories that were once beautiful, once harmless, once nameless. I never gave them an identity when they were alive- I just love them. now they live in me rent free. in my mind. in my heart. in my soul.

I fought them.
suppressed them.
pushed them away.

but you can’t win a war against your own mind. the harder you push - the closer it comes like a pendulum string that returns with more force each time.

finally, I sat up on my bed. numb and hollow. staring at the wall. A cute calendar hung there which my father got for me. quiet and still.
it said: February.
I looked at it for five minutes.
and something broke.

my eyes filled before my mind could react. I knew it was coming. I closed my eyes, trying to stop it but some battles are lost before they begin. when I opened them again, the tears had already decided their path. endless. silent. uncontrollable.

I hate this state when you don’t want something to happen, yet it happens anyway. when your willpower means nothing. when control is an illusion. while I’m writing this my eyes are full and I don’t even know why I am writing all this here who’s gonna read it. anyways…

this month. this Ramadan. these dates they carry history. they carry weight. it’s the second time this year that I’ve cried like this - without a clear reason. or maybe it’s clear. may be the mind already knows the truth, and the heart is still refusing to learn it.

I’ve spent a long time locking my emotions in a corner of my heart - sealed, secured and buried and thrown the keys into some invisible black hole. but some things don’t stay buried they leak through cracks.

just like these tears. just like these memories. just like this pain. to be honest I hate these all tears, memories, emotions because I’ve no control over them at this point of time. bullshit.

A few hours ago, my body was in agony. now it’s my soul.

And somehow, emotional pain feels heavier because there is no medicine for it, no dosage, no prescription, no rest.

I wonder when I’ll get bail from these memories. Because they are breaking something inside me- slowly, daily, quietly. Somewhere I’m shattering without sound.

so sometimes, I ask myself-
does this person whose memories are haunting me also remembers me like this? do I cross their mind the way they cross mine? do I visit their dreams too? do my memories stir something in their chest the way theirs’s do in mine? do they feel restless at night? does they feel empty at times? does their days also feel heavy like to finish?

I don’t know.

All I know is this: I’m wounded. not bleeding. not broken but wounded. The kind of wound that lives inside. The kind that doesn’t show. The kind that teaches you to smile with a storm in your chest.

sometimes I feel sorry for my heart. for the weight it carries. For the battles it fights. for the pain it survived.

I wish I could turn the clock. I wish I could erase my memory. I wish I could return to my happiest era. I wish I had never met him.

because some meetings don’t come to stay. They come to wound, to change, to carve absence into your soul.

‘‘kal jo na tujhse mili mai hoti,
Aaj na bichhadne ki baat ye hoti.
Naa toh tujhe khone ka khauf hi hota,
Naa hi tujhe paane ki aas hi hoti.
Kaash pehle naa mila hota
Mujhe tu mera hoke
Jaa humse juda hoke
Jeele tu khafa hoke.’’
~Kaash tu mila hota.

‘‘Nasreen beta utho aur kitna sona hai, subah ke 10:00 am baj gye hain. kha bhi tha ki der raat mat jaga kro’’- Maa

(Nasreen, wake up. how long will you sleep haa? it’s already 10:00 am in morning. I warned you already not to stay up late- Mom)

huhhh…. This dream!!!!!

See you💙

Ghazal (Roman version)

Tum Pass Hokar Bhi Qareeb nahi,
Ye Qurbat Abhi Mukammal nahi.

Tum khwaab ho, Tabeer nahi,
Yeh shab abhi gulzar nahi.

Tum yaad ho magar Riwayat nahi,
Yeh lamha abhi mehmaan hi sahi.

Tum sukoon ho magar Muyassar nahi,
Yeh zidd abhi na Dastyaab sahi.

Tum thehar jao toh manzil naseeb ho,
Magar yeh rahguzar abhi muqaddar nahi.

Tum lafz ho magar puri baat nahi,
Yeh khamoshi abhi karaar nahi.

Tum door ho - aur shayad door hi sahi,
Magar yeh doori hume qubool nahi.

Tum mil jao yeh khwahish thi,
Faqat taqdeer ko yeh gawaara nahi.

Tum ishq ho magar adhoora sa,
Yeh daastaan abhi tamaam nahi.

Abhi milna baqi hai,
Abhi kehna baqi hai,
Abhi hum adhoore sahi,
Abhi faasle darmiyaan hain,
Magar hausla, wo ab baqi nahi.

~Ravaani

Meanings

Qurbat- closeness, intimacy
Mukammal- complete, fulfilled
Tabeer- fulfillment of dream
Shab- night
Gulzar- flourishing, blooming
Riwayat- tradition, story form
Muyassar- attainable
Dastyaab- achievable
Rahguzar- path
Muqaddar- fate
Karaar- peace, calm
Faqat- only, merely
Gawaara- acceptable
Daastaan- tale
Tamaam- finished
Darmiyaan- in between

Translated Version:

You are near, yet never truly close,
this closeness is not complete yet.

You are a dream, not its fulfilment,
this night has not bloomed yet.

You are memory, but not story,
this moment is still only a guest.

You are peace, yet unattainable,
this longing is not reachable yet.

If you would stay, the destination would be granted,
but this path is not destined yet.

You are words, but not the whole meaning,
this silence has not found it’s calm yet.

You are distant- and perhaps meant to remain so,
but this distance is not accepted by the heart.

Your coming to me was my only wish,
yet fate didn’t permit it.

You are love, but incomplete,
this story has not ended yet.

Meeting is still waiting,
Words are still unspoken,
We are still unfinished,
Distance still breathes between us-
And even courage is forgetting how to stay.

~Ravaani

Hindi version:

तुम पास होकर भी क़रीब नहीं ,
ये क़ुर्बत अभी मुकम्मल नहीं |

तुम ख़्वाब हो ताबीर नहीं ,
ये शब अभी गुलज़ार नहीं |

तुम याद हो मगर रिवायत नहीं ,
ये लम्हा अभी मेहमान ही सही |

तुम सुकून हो मगर मयस्सर नहीं,
ये ज़िद अभी न दस्तयाब सही |

तुम ठहर जाओ तो मंज़िल नसीब हो,
मगर ये रहगुज़र अभी मुक़द्दर नहीं |

तुम लफ़्ज़ हो मगर पूरी बात नहीं ,
ये ख़ामोशी अभी करार नहीं |

तुम दूर हो – और शायद दूर ही सही,
मगर ये दूरी हमें क़बूल नहीं |

तुम मिल जाओ ये ख़्वाहिश थी,
फ़क़त तक़दीर को ये गवारा नहीं |

तुम इश्क़ हो मगर अधूरा सा,
ये दास्तान अभी तमाम नहीं |

अभी मिलना बाकी है,
अभी कहना बाकी है ,
अभी हम अधूरे सही ,
अभी फ़ासले दरमियाँ हैं ,
मगर अब हौसला बाकी नहीं |

~रवानी

Author’s Note: For the first time I’ve written an Urdu ghazal. I’ve tried my best to give the translated version too for those who are new to Urdu language for their understanding. spare me if there is any mistake. I’m still a rookie here.

Hope you all like this & if you do than you know what to do.

See you<3

You can’t imagine your life without that person or that thing, because you give your all and invest everything in it day by day with each passing moment. At some point of time that thing or that person has started to live in your thoughts, your dreams and your imagination from day and night and you start thinking as if entire universe is conspiring it for you. you didn’t just love them. you depended on them.

A Story without them is solely heart wrenching.

It becomes essential for you, for your living- like the oxygen. Even it's thoughts start driving you crazy. you get addicted to it. you start imagining your afterlife connecting with this. you can’t think about anything or anyone else.

But suddenly….

Something happens, turning everything upside down. you are left alone. all your dreams or future calculations goes downhill. you are not even in a stance to understand anything, and you found yourself surrounded with plethora of questions: -

What exactly is the reason?

Where you went wrong?

Where did you faulter?

What was your mistake?

Where did you fall short?

Were your efforts not enough?

Was it a right decision?

Should i give it a one more try?

Self-doubt, criticism and in worst case scenario may be - depression or suicidal thoughts start kicking in intensely. you start isolating yourself from the outer world, you start thinking maybe you are not made for anything good. may be everyone was right from the very starting- that it's not your cup of tea. you are left alone or you start feeling alone.

You find it hard to accept. you continuously fight with reality because accepting it feels like betrayal, because your heart still doesn’t want to admit that it’s not for you or you are nothing for them but for you, they were everything. you look like a shattered glass that gets scattered on the floor. you still don’t want to accept the truth. you negotiate with fate. you deny what is already over. you beg life for reversals, but this is not possible.

You think now the world ends. You don’t have any reason to live.

A Phase where you believe the pain is forever. where every morning feels heavier than the last. where it feels harder and harder to spend a day and night feels unbearable. you replay every single story that can’t be completed without them. . you don’t know what to do next. you tend to lose your interest from everything. your life becomes like a living hell. loneliness slowly starts eating you and there comes a point when you may want to end your life.

But again suddenly….

life recalls you.

something again comes in your life, another purpose - may be A ray of hope. you accept the situation and let yourself pass through it. you start seeing everything neutrally. you find things logical once that seemed illogical. you start seeing life in the things once seemed dead to you. you start seeing positivity. you feel motivated. you start to reconsider your current situation. you simply weigh down all those self-doubts, unnecessary thoughts that once kept you down from flying high.

now you feel free and you simply move on.

you cannot completely heal yourself, but these are like those wounds that leaves scars not on your heart but on your soul as well. These are some scars that can’t be touched, neither you have the courage to touch them again. Those wounds you never show not because they are deep - but because touching them again would break something inside you so you simply cover them well with nice piece of clothes and put a smile on your face with a version of yourself that look fine and move on. Nobody ever knows what you have been through. All you want to live again. you are ready to search for new reasons to wake up. life doesn’t wait for you to be ready it goes anyway and then once again life happens.

And that’s how life keep on and on and on because - show must go on.

Days turn into routines. Routines turn into habits and somehow life keeps moving with or… without your consent. It doesn’t wait for anyone to be ready that is sad but harsh reality.

Point here is: ‘‘Waqt Sare Zakham Bhar Deta Hai’’

Time is the biggest healer.

No matter how brutal the pain is, how worst the wound is…it can fade away slowly and then a time would come when you look back on these events or people you feel nothing about them. This is the strange beauty of time it can heal anything though imprints are left behind but again you can simply hide them. simply learn how to live with damage. you forgive them. you forgive yourself and learn to carry those scars beautifully and keep moving.

And this is not only true for the persons, but for anything: - An incomplete wish, an unaccomplished dream, Ambitions that died silently or something you want badly -with your whole soul and you never got.

Author’s note - If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself between these lines- know that it’s okay to not be okay and if you all managed today to exist - that’s enough. Tomorrow can wait. you are not meant to be shaken by these winds because you may be broken but you are beautiful<3

You laugh, you cry, you have your time
Can’t bring it back, no amount of dime
Cherish it darling, before it’s all gone
Why? Cause life goes on….

Falling in love, making new friends
New interests, ever changing trends
Chase your dreams, you owe it to you
Make the life you grow upon
Why? Cause life goes on….

You were a daughter, a son
You are a husband, a wife
You will soon be making a new life
Changing phases, can’t hold on
Why? Cause life goes on….

Listen to songs, explore new music
Get that hobby, start from basic
Dance to your tune honey
Smile, live the high, improve upon
Why? Cause life goes on….

~See you<3

Listen to this and enjoy….

“He kissed on my left cheek.”

While I was sitting on the bench placed in the outskirts of hospital.

“How dare you?” - being annoyed and infuriated, I gave this look on turning towards him by pointing my finger at him & before I could utter a word…

“Hey, come to me, I love you” - he said hovering over me while caressing my cheeks with his palm.

(Mai tumhe tumse bhi zyada chahunga)

“I'll love you more then you.”

“In fact, more than anything. Trust me I'll make all those fictions true I'll love you more than my life.”

I could feel those huge storms of butterflies in my stomach. I so wanted to give into his arms. But I decided to knock some senses into his crazy head.

“It's impossible” I said.

“You and me - we are impossible.’’ - To tease him.

-and above all, how could you do this here. We are all surrounded with people and Dad must be coming here anytime soon. Before he comes you please go.

Saying this - I pushed him hard with all my force to go back.

“Okay Okay ….. Relax, I'm going.”

“Yrr please don't look at me with those big doe eyes. You know, you look so cute when you look at me like this… Awww” - he said, flickering my nose with his index finger. It made me more infuriated.

“Hnnn…..Move” - I said

He started walking his way, after few steps he turned towards me & said -

“Ayye titli - abhi toh mai jaa rha hu, pr pta hai kya?

Kya? - me

“Tumhe meri yaad toh aayegi pakka….. Aur jb tumhe meri yaad aayegi na toh aa jana Delhi NCR me. Theek?”

(Hey, lil butterfly - now, I'm going but you know what you will miss me. You will miss me so hard mark my words, but you know what you have to do, whenever you will miss me just come to Delhi NCR. OK?) - He said while walking backward with both hands in pocket.

Me - huh

He winked at me with his devilish smirk. Just when I was about to catch him……

Drinnnn….. Drinnnn….. Drinnnn - Alarm

I woke up with a jolt.

Fast heartbeats.

Breaths uneven.

& switched off my alarm.

Why this tall 5’9 - handsome, bearded, clanked in blue shirt guy always appears in my dreams?

It's 6th time I'm Bing watching him in my dreams again.

When are you going to reveal his face God?

“Kyu itna sitam dhaa rhe hai aap humpe? Aapko pta hai hmari jaan nikal jayegi kisi din inn blue shirt wale janaab ke chakkar me”

(Why are you so merciless God you know what, someday I'll die because of this blue shirt guy?)

Placing my right hand on my heart I tried to calm it down - 𝙃𝙖𝙮𝙮𝙚𝙚𝙚!!! 𝙔𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙣𝙖… (Uff this dream. Again?)

They say - “You should never give up on your dreams”

So keep Sleeping <3

See you💛