Iss waqt to' yu'n lagta hai ab kuch bhi nahin hai
Mahtab na sooraj, na andhera na sawera
Aankho'n k dareecho'n pe kisi husn ki chilman
Aur dil ki panaho'n main kisi dard ka dera
This semester was difficult for most of us.
Some of us lost people we loved. Most of us didn't want to. =]
Some of us had to take difficult decisions, decisions that are going to affect the rest of our lives. Decisions that took a lot of soul searching, and sheer guts.
We cried a lot, this Fall 09. There were moments where we despaired of life. There were moments so dark, so lonely, we couldn't imagine we'd ever be happy again.
For most of us, Fall 09 was the end of a life time. The end of love, a relationship, student life or single life.
There were moments that will stay with us for the rest of our lives. Pain that will fade, but never vanish. Dreams that will never come true, but come to haunt us when we least expect them to.
A name. A color. A scent. A lost dream.
Secrets that we'll stash away, but never be able to forget.
Shakho'n main khayalo'n ke ghanay paerr ke shayad
Ab aa ke karay ga na koi khwab basera
Ik bair, na ik muh'r, na ik rabtt na rishta
Tera koi apna, na paraya koi mera
But in the last six months, we learnt some valuable lessons too.
We learnt not to depend on someone else for our happiness. We realized no one and nothing is forever.
We learnt to accept that life isn't going to be how we thought it would be. There are millions of roads, millions of unmarked streets we could lose ourselves in.
We learnt not to dream and plan too much before time, because then it hurts all the more when they can't come true. We learnt that we have to take life as it comes.
We came to understand that practicality comes before love every time, at the end of the day.
We learnt that we can't dig in our heels and fight life. But we can fight despondency. We learnt how to dress up, smile pretty, and pretend to be happy when we least felt like it.
We learnt that we can only be as awesome as we think we are. =]
In the last six months, the test of time also separated the friends from the not-so. There were people, from whom we never expected it, who stood by us when we needed someone the most. It brought us closer.
For that, we'll always be grateful to Fall 09.
And we made some decisions. We decided to be happy. We decided life isn't going lay us low. We decided we are going to be a success in our own lives. Because failure is only in ones mind. All the hurts, all the falls, made us stronger. More resilient.
We learnt that nothing is the 'end of the world'. That we can survive pretty much anything. That heart-break doesn't kill anyone. That life will always still go on.
And that a life time is a very, very long time.
Mana k ye sunsan gharri sakht karri hai
Lekin meray dil ye to' faqat aik gharri hai
Himat kero, jeenay ko to' ik umr parri hai.*
We're ready for the new year. And the start of a new us.
Let Spring 10 bring what it may.
*[This moment of loneliness is tough, I know, but, O Heart, this is but a moment. Have faith, there's a lifetime to live, still.]
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Sheesho'n ka maseeha koi nahin
She's like a zombie.
She smiles, but she doesn't mean it. She goes about life, but she's not really there. Nothing interests her. There's no one she cares about any more. She just wants to run away, fly away somewhere where none of these people who profess to love her can follow.
Away from the plans and dreams they're dreaming for her. Away from the people who took away her right to decide for herself; her will.
It's what happens to a lot of women. But I've never seen it upclose before. I've never seen someone I love go through this.
This is not a love marriage/arranged marriage debate. This has nothing to do with parents wanting the best for their children. I don't negate that. But sometimes parents are too blinded by their own righteousness to see what's under their own noses.
There's nothing wrong with this guy. There's nothing wrong with his family. Except he's not who she wants. This isn't the life she wants to live.
And she's trying, but she isn't able to accept him. She cried, she begged, she rationalized, she argued; They didn't listen. They quickly got the nikah done, fearful of her rebellion. Took her on an umrah, with the whole family, and surprised her with nikah plans at the house of God. "You're so lucky", they gushed, "only the khushnaseeb get such an opportunity!".
We're all trying to make her comfortable with this new life of hers. The wedding is within six months. The guy wants to talk to her, the families push them together, try to coerce her into going out with him. She can't bring herself to. It's as if her heart shut down.
We lecture her, we patronize her, we hold her close and soothe her; we tell her this is it: this is how life will be, she has to accept it somehow, so she can move on. Her parents call us up, ask us to "talk some sense into her". "This is her life; she has to marry him, whether she likes it or not!", they declare, "it would be better if she just understands that. She's ruining her life!"
She's ruining her life?
Dig a hole, throw me in, and then demand I make myself comfortable. Accept my fate. Because otherwise I am ruining my life.
We're making plans for her wedding. What will we wear, what will we dance to. She sits there, quiet. Angry, sad, but silent.
My heart hurts when I think of what she has to go through.
She smiles, but she doesn't mean it. She goes about life, but she's not really there. Nothing interests her. There's no one she cares about any more. She just wants to run away, fly away somewhere where none of these people who profess to love her can follow.
Away from the plans and dreams they're dreaming for her. Away from the people who took away her right to decide for herself; her will.
It's what happens to a lot of women. But I've never seen it upclose before. I've never seen someone I love go through this.
This is not a love marriage/arranged marriage debate. This has nothing to do with parents wanting the best for their children. I don't negate that. But sometimes parents are too blinded by their own righteousness to see what's under their own noses.
There's nothing wrong with this guy. There's nothing wrong with his family. Except he's not who she wants. This isn't the life she wants to live.
And she's trying, but she isn't able to accept him. She cried, she begged, she rationalized, she argued; They didn't listen. They quickly got the nikah done, fearful of her rebellion. Took her on an umrah, with the whole family, and surprised her with nikah plans at the house of God. "You're so lucky", they gushed, "only the khushnaseeb get such an opportunity!".
We're all trying to make her comfortable with this new life of hers. The wedding is within six months. The guy wants to talk to her, the families push them together, try to coerce her into going out with him. She can't bring herself to. It's as if her heart shut down.
We lecture her, we patronize her, we hold her close and soothe her; we tell her this is it: this is how life will be, she has to accept it somehow, so she can move on. Her parents call us up, ask us to "talk some sense into her". "This is her life; she has to marry him, whether she likes it or not!", they declare, "it would be better if she just understands that. She's ruining her life!"
She's ruining her life?
Dig a hole, throw me in, and then demand I make myself comfortable. Accept my fate. Because otherwise I am ruining my life.
We're making plans for her wedding. What will we wear, what will we dance to. She sits there, quiet. Angry, sad, but silent.
My heart hurts when I think of what she has to go through.
"If, Allah na karay, you're ever at the point in life where I stand today, know that I'll be there to hold you, and to give you whatever comfort I can. If you're ever at this painful juncture, know that I'll understand what you're going through, and you won't be alone" she wrote.
Tum nahaq tukrey chun chun kar
Daaman mein chupaaye bethey ho
Sheeshon ka maseeha koi nahi...
Kya aas lagaye bethey ho?
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Regrets
I'm never going to regret anything. I decided that a long long time ago.
Winning and losing in life is all in our own minds. It has to do with being content in our own skin; being satisfied with what we have, what we've done, who ever we've become. Two people exactly in the same positions (which is impossible, but hypothetically speaking) will have different ideas, different beliefs about whether or not they achieved that elsuive "something".
That "something" that, in the end, justifies our life.
To be satisfied, at any point in your life, it's important to not have regrets. And that is what I'm aiming for. I refuse to wallow in self pity, wondering where I went wrong, enumerating the "what-if"s and "what could have been"s. I'm not going to "try to forget" like everyone is always telling me to.
I've told my self, in no uncertain terms, that whatever choices I have made and will make, what ever decisions I took and will take, I'm going to take full responsibility for them. And I'm not going to regret a single moment.
Because with the bad are the good memories. When you look back with regret because of all the things that went wrong, you're belittling all the good that came about.
The bad memories are winning, and you're the only loser.
When I was about fourteen, my great grandfather died. He was more than a hundred years old. On our way back home, my father sighed and said "well, that's another story closed". That got me thinking.
To me, it's like every person has a book of their own. And in this book, every person this person comes in contact with, throughout their life, has a chapter. This chapter may be short and simple, or convoluted and lengthy. But it encaptures every angle of their relationship, every shade.
And when comes the time to part, be it due to death, or in life, that chapter is closed. But it’s always there, for us to leaf through when the mood hits. It’s always there to remind us of all the people who shaped our lives and made us who we are. It’s always there, with the hurts and the joy, our private time machine.
At the end of our life, He’s going to end our story, put an end to our book. Perhaps file it into His library, already chock full of old books, lives gathering dust.
But while we're alive, I think we should go back often, reading through our life, to revisit our old friends.
And regret not a word.
Winning and losing in life is all in our own minds. It has to do with being content in our own skin; being satisfied with what we have, what we've done, who ever we've become. Two people exactly in the same positions (which is impossible, but hypothetically speaking) will have different ideas, different beliefs about whether or not they achieved that elsuive "something".
That "something" that, in the end, justifies our life.
To be satisfied, at any point in your life, it's important to not have regrets. And that is what I'm aiming for. I refuse to wallow in self pity, wondering where I went wrong, enumerating the "what-if"s and "what could have been"s. I'm not going to "try to forget" like everyone is always telling me to.
I've told my self, in no uncertain terms, that whatever choices I have made and will make, what ever decisions I took and will take, I'm going to take full responsibility for them. And I'm not going to regret a single moment.
Because with the bad are the good memories. When you look back with regret because of all the things that went wrong, you're belittling all the good that came about.
The bad memories are winning, and you're the only loser.
When I was about fourteen, my great grandfather died. He was more than a hundred years old. On our way back home, my father sighed and said "well, that's another story closed". That got me thinking.
To me, it's like every person has a book of their own. And in this book, every person this person comes in contact with, throughout their life, has a chapter. This chapter may be short and simple, or convoluted and lengthy. But it encaptures every angle of their relationship, every shade.
And when comes the time to part, be it due to death, or in life, that chapter is closed. But it’s always there, for us to leaf through when the mood hits. It’s always there to remind us of all the people who shaped our lives and made us who we are. It’s always there, with the hurts and the joy, our private time machine.
At the end of our life, He’s going to end our story, put an end to our book. Perhaps file it into His library, already chock full of old books, lives gathering dust.
But while we're alive, I think we should go back often, reading through our life, to revisit our old friends.
And regret not a word.
Monday, December 7, 2009
This September
Na deed hai na suk'han, ab na harf hai na payaam
Ko’ii bhii heela-e-taskeeN nahiiN aur aas bahut hai
Umeed-e-yaar, nazar kaa mizaaj, dard kaa rang
Tum aaj kuch bhi na pucho ke dil udaas bahut hai
You've finally left.
It's so strange: To have mattered so much for so long, and then to not matter at all. All these years I lived for "us". Every nuance, every shade of life, every scent was colored by "us". Every dream I dreamt, every emotion, every milestone; I associated it all with you. You were what held my life together. You were my rock: I depended on you so much, I forgot how to depend on my own self. I didn't even realize I was doing it, but I cut away from every other circle. I left debating, I forgot theatre, I abandoned my friends. Nothing mattered but "us".
I'm lost. I don't know how to deal with being on my own. I changed so much, in the last three years. I changed so I'd fit into "us". Now that there is no "us", I don't fit in anywhere. This not fitting in really hurts. I don't belong any more. And you don't belong to me. That hurts too.
I'll always hate September. I wish I could hate you.
[A rough translation in prose:
There is nothing to give me hope any more: no action or comfort, no word or message. There is nothing that would satisfy me, yet hope and need abounds.
Expectations of my lover, expressive eyes, the color of pain: Ask naught today, for my heart hurts much.
p.s. My apologies to Faiz
p.p.s. can someone come up with a better translation for "umeed-e yaar"? ]
Ko’ii bhii heela-e-taskeeN nahiiN aur aas bahut hai
Umeed-e-yaar, nazar kaa mizaaj, dard kaa rang
Tum aaj kuch bhi na pucho ke dil udaas bahut hai
You've finally left.
It's so strange: To have mattered so much for so long, and then to not matter at all. All these years I lived for "us". Every nuance, every shade of life, every scent was colored by "us". Every dream I dreamt, every emotion, every milestone; I associated it all with you. You were what held my life together. You were my rock: I depended on you so much, I forgot how to depend on my own self. I didn't even realize I was doing it, but I cut away from every other circle. I left debating, I forgot theatre, I abandoned my friends. Nothing mattered but "us".
I'm lost. I don't know how to deal with being on my own. I changed so much, in the last three years. I changed so I'd fit into "us". Now that there is no "us", I don't fit in anywhere. This not fitting in really hurts. I don't belong any more. And you don't belong to me. That hurts too.
I'll always hate September. I wish I could hate you.
[A rough translation in prose:
There is nothing to give me hope any more: no action or comfort, no word or message. There is nothing that would satisfy me, yet hope and need abounds.
Expectations of my lover, expressive eyes, the color of pain: Ask naught today, for my heart hurts much.
p.s. My apologies to Faiz
p.p.s. can someone come up with a better translation for "umeed-e yaar"? ]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)