It's Not Deja Vu

 Masjid Wazir Khan
Photo courtesy: Fatima Qayyum

To anyone having trouble leaving this city

Know that you aren't alone

Millions before you have seen this time
Millions are going to face this in days to come


But the truth is even if you leave the physicality of this city, you won't. Really.

There is this character of Lahore that I haven't seen anywhere else

Trust me, I know.


It has been only five years

But as I walk upon my favorite pavement

The dust on it recognizes me

The air embraces me

The mud moulds itself to make me welcome

Then again, maybe it is Lahore's loyalty to those who are born here

Muhalla Delhi Gate
Photo courtesy: Fatima Qayyum

It's not even a question


If you come to Lahore, before you even realize that it is, finally, what is home, will be

You become a part of the air

You are what others breath in

And others are what you breathe in

Is there a bond like this, anywhere?

Bagh e Jinnah
Photo courtesy: Fatima Qayyum

What I feel is not nostalgia

I feel the clashing of a memory with an emotion

It is the color of the emotion that Lahore invokes in me that I shall miss the most

Not the people

Not the time I have had here

Nor the heart and tears I have lost here

It is that color

Color not to be found in any palette

Yet it is so real

Take a walk
Stand on the sidewalk of Mall Road
Opposite GPO
Near the pigeons
And close your eyes

You will feel the color

You will be drenched in that color

You will look like that color

Mark my words

Food Street, Gawalandi
Photo courtesy : Fatima Qayyum

Also
I will miss the way the city makes me feel when the Bazar is full and bustling

It is not a happy feeling
Neither a sad one

Well, a rather sad one if I am honest

I look at women and men, stores and vendors and they appear black and white to me

It is not deja vu if you think you are peering through a window of your future

But in my future, I am still a part of this air

In tinniest particles

Breathed in and breathed out

In the simplest of gestures of love, this city becomes one with you.

I finally understand what Mansoor meant.

Jade Cafe
Photo courtesy: Fatima Qayyum

A Break Up Letter

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