[lahore2toronto]

Ruttie Jinnah’s Last Letter to Her Husband, Mohammad Ali Jinnah

Note; 

Ruttie Jinnah’s simple but beautiful English makes this letter very moving. Each and every word of this sad but beautiful letter makes the readers cry. It was such an ideal couple and it pains when we learn about the demise of Ruttie at a very young age of 29. This letter was written on 5 Oct 1928 and she died after four and a half months on 20 Feb 1929. She wrote this letter when she was aboard the SS Rajputana, a British passenger and cargo carrying ocean liner, which sailed on a regular route between England and British India.

S. S. Rajputana, Marseilles 5 Oct 1928 Darling – thank you for all you have done. If ever in my bearing your once tuned senses found any irritability or unkindness – be assured that in my heart there was place only for a great tenderness and a greater pain – a pain my love without hurt. When one has been as near to the reality of Life (which after all is Death) as I have been dearest, one only remembers the beautiful and tender moments and all the rest becomes a half veiled mist of unrealities. Try and remember me beloved as the flower you plucked and not the flower you tread upon. I have suffered much sweetheart because I have loved much. The measure of my agony has been in accord to the measure of my love. Darling I love you – I love you – and had I loved you just a little less I might have remained with you – only after one has created a very beautiful blossom one does not drag it through the mire. The higher you set your ideal the lower it falls. I have loved you my darling as it is given to few men to be loved. I only beseech you that the tragedy which commenced in love should also end with it. Darling Goodnight & Goodbye Ruttie I had written to you at Paris with the intention of posting the letter here – but I felt that I would rather write to you afresh from the fullness of my heart. R.“ This original letter has been preserved with the archives, the Quaid-e-Azam Papers Project, of the Cabinet Division.

Picture by: Doc Kazi Special Thanks: Irfan Kazmi

[clickinmy-ear]

[a-dull-ache-deactivated20240918]

[ojibwa]

[metamorphesque]

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[text ID: I need a father. I need a mother. I need some older, wiser being to cry to. I talk to God, but the sky is empty.]

[lolane]

“I keep trying to protect you from me. From the nights when I drink the whole bottle, From the days I don’t get out of bed and just hide from everything. I don’t Deal With Things well. I’m not Good At Being An Adult.”

— Clementine von Radics, except from The Hulk

[deadpoetnuwanda]

"What is a home if not the first place you learn to run from"

~Courtney Love Prays to Oregon, Clementine von Radics

[feral-ballad]

Clementine Von Radics, from In A Dream You Saw A Way To Survive; “On punching the dude who tried to pull me out of the pit:”

[giblimort-deactivated20251031]

“We — Narcissa and I — have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood .” 

— Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

The Black Sisters - Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa

[wordsandshe]

“The truth is all my poems are disturbing. The truth is I don’t write about happy because when I’m happy, I’m too busy singing. When I’m happy, I’m too busy laughing. When I’m happy, I don’t want to lock myself in my room and bleed onto my notebook. And anyway, no one wants to share their happy. We are greedy with our happy. We hold it to our chests and strangle it between our fingers. It can’t breathe but it is ours and this is enough. That’s why I write about sad. Because sad is 2 for 1 in the bargain bin. Sad is take all you want, there’s plenty to go around. Sad is sit with me and bleed because I’m dizzy from how much this hurts and I could really use a glass of water. Could you bring a glass of water? I’m writing about sad again and my tongue is turning to dust in my mouth. My heart is rotting to ruins in my chest. Think Coliseum. Think Pompeii. Think something much less dramatic and much less glamorous. Think garbage spilling out of a can into an abandoned street and the dawn light is weak and nothing is illuminated and there are no shadows. I’m writing about sad again and my fingers are tired.”

— Fortesa Latifi, I’m writing about sad again

[thunder-core]

- The cold of the waves

[the-girl-not-next-door]

Drop me here and leave.

[peopleplacesandthings-blog]

Quote #1

“You know what truly aches all that you are? Having so much inside you and not having the slightest clue of how to pour it out.”-Christopher Pointdexter

[thomastudies]

recent instagram posts from me | feel free to follow my instagram account : @thomreads

[quotemadness]

“Sometimes, all you had to do was exist to be someone’s saviour.”

— Keigo Higashino

[insteadofdisappearing]

“the angel’s got a knife and i’ve got skin to spare so we find a way to god’s attention and he doesn’t see. i don’t understand: who couldn’t notice so much blood? who could watch this ruin and still say nothing?”

— undefined | s.o.

[insteadofdisappearing]

“hey look, imagine this: we shave our heads and paint our nails baby blue and hop on the first plane to anywhere but here and never look back at this city. we change our names and change our chorus and be new new new. hey look, imagine this: you spend less nights with razors and ropes and i don’t write poems that scare you. we wear lipstick like firecrackers and it’s because we want to, not because we want someone to want us so bad they come too close and press too hard. we dance to all night to taylor swift and it doesn’t hurt at all. hey look, imagine this: we don’t want to die anymore. we smile and we show our teeth every time. the light is here that we never learned to see. the fire is here and we don’t want to burn in it anymore. so call me heartbeat and i’ll call you hallelujah, let’s make it out of this alive. let’s make it til tomorrow, anyway. let’s grin and howl and fly away away away. god, it’s going to be so good.”

— hope or something || s.o.