Tag: love

Notes to People of the Past



Respected ____________,
You were right, I did it for attention. But it offended me deeply when you said it, when in fact I should have realized you were giving me an easy way out. Almost six years later I realize this and find closure. I’m sorry for the way I reacted. I am indebted to you.

Dear ___________,
I think of that day every day. It has been almost nine years I think. I’m burdened with guilt. The fact that I can never apologize sickens me. You were my best friend at that time. I should have known better. I hope you’re happy wherever you are now.

I forgive you. I know why you did what you did. I understand, although I obviously don’t approve. I forgive you. I hope you’re doing as well as you seem to be doing. I hope you understand my reaction as well.

Dear ___________,
I don’t know you anymore. I just remember your name, your face, the time we spent together, and the monkey-bar incident. I hope you think of me too.

___________, ___________, and ____________,
I was a child. You shouldn’t have done what you did. Every day I think of it and try to justify your actions, and I often succeed although I know it was wrong. I can’t say I forgive you. I don’t know if there’s anything to forgive. I don’t know what that constitutes. Just know, it affected me deeply. I would’ve been an entirely different person had it not been for you.


Very dear _____________,
All of us miss you. I wish I could’ve thanked you when you were still here. I have fond memories with you. I still haven’t thrown away your gifts. I don’t know if I ever will. You’re missed, but you don’ need to worry. We’re all okay here. I hope you’re in peace.



The story of his life

A tiny presence in the womb,
he listened to her voice
and fell in love
at first hearing.

He heard her and felt her
and tried not to hurt her,
and waited patiently
for nine whole months.

His happy days
began and ended
the day he breathed his first,
and his mother breathed her last.

The story of his life continued,
first love never forgotten,
second love never known,
third love never owned.

Beliefs, hopes and expectations
confused him as everything did,
he yearned and yearned to make ends meet
but never quite succeeded.

His dreams floated
in the river of his Future
where it met his Present
and passed his Past,
like unrequited love.

The boy deprived of love,
finally found love
when he stopped looking for it
in humans.

His dreams then ascended
from the river to the sky
and met with reality
colliding with bliss on its way.

Thus went the story of his life.


A nobody

A nobody is
a person
of no importance.
But you, my dear
are important to me
as you always shall be.

So if you’re anything
you’re not a nobody.

But if you insist
on being
a nobody,
well then
I’ll humour you.

And say
you’re a nobody.

But allow me
to elaborate.

You are a nobody
bent on being
a somebody.
And the only thing
stopping you
from being
is nobody.

And hence,
we deduce,
that you
are a nobody
that is a

Beautiful albeit damaged
by life.
Strong albeit afraid
of yourself.
Strange albeit familiar
to me.
And very

Yes, you’re a nobody.


Carefully, destroy the bricks

Carefully, she placed each brick
Built the walls, fixed the gates
Locked the latch, hid the keys.

Nervously, she touched her heart
She put the keys, where they belonged
To tear her walls, you need her heart.

In her heart, below the trust
Beside her love, lies the key
You get the key, you get the rest.

Find the key, pick the latch
Open the gates, tear the walls
And destroy the carefully placed bricks.


Lost times, lost people

I have a friend. She holds on to stuff. To the past. She saves them and looks after them as if her life depended upon them. She doesn’t let anyone throw them away. Not even when her drawers have no more space in them. No, the past stays with her. I ask her, why? And she says, well she doesn’t say but I assume, that it’s because she feels if she throws the stuff away, they’ll take the memories with them. As if throwing them away will somehow lessen their importance. And even if there is no significance to the memory, if the object tends to make her even a little bit nostalgic, she’s keeping it. So you can imagine, all sorts of scraps of paper, and beads, and diaries, and threads, and buttons, and letters, and small things are stuffed in that drawer. Paper chats from school days, and college days, letters from friends, acquaintances and relatives, useless drawings and doodles by self or friends… Diaries full of offending comments by people, lovely text messages, amazing narrations of amazing events, memorable conversations with random or dear people… You name it, it’s there.

I find her habit rather silly. Because I believe we should let go. We can only start living today if we let go of yesterday. It is true that our yesterdays make our todays, but that does not mean that we start giving them so much significance that they slowly and eventually seep into our todays in ways that may affect our tomorrows.

I used to be like that too. Saving pieces of paper, tissue, and filling up diaries of events that may or may not matter and then save them, keep them dear to life. But I realized then,  that those things are only cluttering my mind and cupboards. That I need to clear space to let new experiences take their place. That I need to let go of people and make space for those who might actually matter. So I cleared up the boxes, emptied the cupboards, and threw away the useless scraps of paper. I am currently in the process of clearing my mind too. Erasing negative emotions is proving to be very hard. And letting go of people? Lets just say… It’s too easy to let go of some, and way too hard to let go of some others. And it isn’t possible to just tell yourself to hate one and love another. Not if the heart isn’t willing to. But that wasn’t really the point of this post.

The point is, it’s good to de-clutter.

The curly-haired girl…

What can a person possibly feel when a beloved leaves… After being so close for so long… What can a person feel but deserted and alone?… No matter how much we try to be mature about it… It still hurts just the same. Still hurts too much. It becomes hard to think about anything but that. The mind takes so long to actually accept the fact. Even though we know… We know very well. It is still a shock. The mind still takes long to register it. The thought of that one person missing…becomes unbearable.

Especially when that person is your best friend. One of them. And especially when things just started looking up. And especially when that person has no choice but to leave. Heart-rending. It’s not everyday that you find someone so unique that you never want to let go. Someone so very unique, that everyone but themselves sees it. Someone amazing… Who you can open up to. Someone just as strange as you… Someone different. Unlike you, but like you too. Your person.

My person is leaving. I just wanted to tell her, that I love her and always will.

Her smile1106507-Clipart-Black-And-White-Stick-Drawing-Of-Two-Best-Friend-Girls-Holding-Hands-And-A-Loli-Pop-Royalty-Free-Vector-Illustration

Her paintings.

Her creativity.

Her expressions.

Her spontaneity.

Her hair and her eyes.

Her ideas.

Her imagination.

Her stories.


I think of her going away.. and all those moments replay in my mind. How we both never knew the other existed till 8th grade. We didn’t have a great opinion of each other.  Then circumstances forced us to sit beside each other for the rest of the school years. At first, I didn’t get her. She often confused me. I wanted her to like me, for us to get along well. And I couldn’t figure out how. I couldn’t figure out how she felt. But then when I did get to know her, when I started to understand her, I was amazed. I can still say this about her, she’s the most unique person I’ve ever met. We never talked much. The silence was often comfortable. And when we did talk, it was almost always meaningful.

I think there are two kind of best friends. Those you can be crazy with, stay stupid stuff to, and then laugh over it for hours even decades. You understand each other. You can make the other forget their pain, be happy with them. And those who you can talk to about important stuff. About feelings. And you’re comfortable telling them. You solve each other’s problems. You listen to the other seriously… You can be quite philosophical together… You don’t need to talk all the time to understand what the other is going through… And their are those too… Who’re both kinds.

After all of this,  it comes down to the fact that I know, whatever happens, happens for a reason. Allah knows best, He knows what’s better for us and He knows what we can not comprehend. If He has planned for her to go away…then it’s best she does. And it’s like we’ll never ever see each other again. No, we probably hopefully will. It hurts, and it will keep on hurting. But that’s life. No one ever said it’s easy. It’s actually very difficult. It actually does become unbearable at times. But that’s what we live for. The challenges, and to live through them. To learn from them… To let them make us stronger. And then to face more challenges. Till we breathe our last.


You’ll move mountains

tumblr_lxqx9eQEaR1qjbfa7o1_500Hey little girl…
Listen to me, 
A mere belief, is all you need.
Hey little girl…
Do not despair,
For Allah is watching, and He is fair.
Hey little girl…
Be brave in this world,
For this is brief, and unreal.
Hey little girl…
Listen to me, 
A mere belief, is all you need.
Let yourself believe,
And put forth your trust,
Give it what you can… 
And then you’ll move mountains.


Perfect sense

This was written recently by a friend… It makes perfect sense to me, because I know the meaning behind it. But to someone who doesn’t know the background to this poem, what does it say?

My feet tied down,
My heart slowly slowing…

I am miserably dying,
But I can’t stop trying.

My life suddenly gone,
All my goodness torn.

More hatred born.
I’m left lovelorn.

I am left behind,
And all the love gone.

I am dying,
But I can’t stop trying.