Most of us would claim to have loved someone dearly at some time in their lives
For me
"The City Of Blinding Lights"
"Manwa re"
There are streets that strike me hard with a bout of nostalgia even though I am right here. They are right here. There is no past to be nostalgic about.
There are people who make me want to stop time and let the future die, past be forgotten and present be stagnant.
There are places that make me visualize a time far ahead of today in monochrome, always in monochrome, when I will come back to see them again and they won't be the same.
There is yearning, nostalgia and hope
There is love, sadness and heartbreak
This is a break up letter
A year ahead of time
A little all over the place
But when you love too deeply, this is just how long it takes to leave it all behind.
To my life of today;
There is sun, and there is hope
There is laughter and there is joy
There are friends and there is love
There is a never ending noise on the road, the sirens of ambulances that are normal background noise, the yellow street lights that are more beautiful than the stars.
There are trucks playing Naseebo Laal that pass by your window at 5 in the morning, in exams, making you pause for a while as you try to decide whether it is the same song from yesterday or not. There is the smell of somosas with too much turmeric in them
There is the periodic rant of Chana Chaat vendor in the canteen
There are windows milling with students on some days
There are windows, deserted on other days
The walls I remember, display posters of KDS, KAPS and Akhuwat
The zero point I see has pigeon shit all around its pathway
The grounds have a life of their own
The grounds buried in red flowers
The grounds buried in sumbal
The football zooming over head as you walk past the water cooler
The mazaar to your right that you never visited
The plaque that remembers Osama Qamar
The white domes of your destiny
The place that many have yearned for
The place that made many
The place that changed many
I have been shattered here before
I am alive again
It has seen such great things, I am but a speck of dust in the desert of its greatness.
I imagine my ghost becoming a part of its halls yet I know even without me, it will be fine
I imagine myself being remembered here yet I know that not a moment shall pass before I am forgotten
My mind has been marked-nay-etched- too deeply by its existence
My existence is nothing but an imagination to this place
I am a ghost and this is where I shall dwell
But for now, if I have to leave, I know it's my choice
I blame you for forgetting me while I am gone
I blame the people I know for moving on
I look at their faces, jovial and alive, and I envy them
But it is I who has to leave
In the most classic terms of a break up, it's not you, it's me.
I never dare overestimate my importance that even a stone will stir as I break my heart and leave for the world
Yet one can hope
It is a goodbye to the life as I know it.
So
Till next time
For me
"The City Of Blinding Lights"
"Manwa re"
There are streets that strike me hard with a bout of nostalgia even though I am right here. They are right here. There is no past to be nostalgic about.
There are people who make me want to stop time and let the future die, past be forgotten and present be stagnant.
There are places that make me visualize a time far ahead of today in monochrome, always in monochrome, when I will come back to see them again and they won't be the same.
There is yearning, nostalgia and hope
There is love, sadness and heartbreak
This is a break up letter
A year ahead of time
A little all over the place
But when you love too deeply, this is just how long it takes to leave it all behind.
To my life of today;
There is sun, and there is hope
There is laughter and there is joy
There are friends and there is love
There is a never ending noise on the road, the sirens of ambulances that are normal background noise, the yellow street lights that are more beautiful than the stars.
There are trucks playing Naseebo Laal that pass by your window at 5 in the morning, in exams, making you pause for a while as you try to decide whether it is the same song from yesterday or not. There is the smell of somosas with too much turmeric in them
There is the periodic rant of Chana Chaat vendor in the canteen
There are windows milling with students on some days
There are windows, deserted on other days
The walls I remember, display posters of KDS, KAPS and Akhuwat
The zero point I see has pigeon shit all around its pathway
The grounds have a life of their own
The grounds buried in red flowers
The grounds buried in sumbal
The football zooming over head as you walk past the water cooler
The mazaar to your right that you never visited
The plaque that remembers Osama Qamar
The white domes of your destiny
The place that many have yearned for
The place that made many
The place that changed many
I have been shattered here before
I am alive again
It has seen such great things, I am but a speck of dust in the desert of its greatness.
I imagine my ghost becoming a part of its halls yet I know even without me, it will be fine
I imagine myself being remembered here yet I know that not a moment shall pass before I am forgotten
My mind has been marked-nay-etched- too deeply by its existence
My existence is nothing but an imagination to this place
I am a ghost and this is where I shall dwell
But for now, if I have to leave, I know it's my choice
I blame you for forgetting me while I am gone
I blame the people I know for moving on
I look at their faces, jovial and alive, and I envy them
But it is I who has to leave
In the most classic terms of a break up, it's not you, it's me.
I never dare overestimate my importance that even a stone will stir as I break my heart and leave for the world
Yet one can hope
It is a goodbye to the life as I know it.
So
Till next time
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