postcards without an address

here are hands to hold your sorrow and tea to warm your soul.

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“ Tum mujhse puchte ho mujhe tumhari kaunsi baat acchi lagti hai, main tum se kaise kahun tumhari kaunsi baat mujhe acchi nahi lagti”

- Kashaf from Zindagi Gulzar Hai

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“My light, I can’t wait to spend the numbered days of my uncertain life with you. I can’t wait for you to send me random sky pictures. Can’t wait to share poetic pieces with you and talk about them. Can’t wait to share waves of laughter with you. to feel the warmth of your presence throughout my life.”

- page from my book, Postcards Without an Address

[weltenwellen]

Andrea Gibson, The Madness Vase

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“Let me keep my little life to myself.”

- Aiskhylos, Agamemnon, trans. Anne Carson

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“ The goal is to be the sunshine, full of hope, grace and mercy. To be the source of joy and peace for others and self. To laugh, smile and love endlessly.”

- Postcards without an address

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“you are so soft and offer me such tenderness. I know that I’ll grow old and start losing the sharpness of my memory. but what I know more than that is that I may be grey and wrinkled with loose memory but still have a beautiful painstaking love for you inside of me. it’s impossible to feel this way but it’s like my love for you gets better every single day. like it’s growing inside of me.”

- a letter, from the book, Postcards without an Address

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“ I like all the shades and version of you. The talkative you. The silent you. The angry you. The stubborn you. The childish you. The you that never pays any heed to commands. The you that breaks every rule. The vivid reader in you. The arrogant you. The kind you. The ruthless in you that is saved only for me. All of you. And I like the colour of your laughter the most.”

مجھے تمہارے سارے رنگ اور انداز پسند ہیں، تم باتیں کرنے والے، تم خاموش رہنے والے، تم غصے میں رہنے والے، تم بہانے کرنے والے، تم جو بچکانہ ہو، تم جو کبھی اصولوں پر توجہ نہیں دیتے، تم جو ہر اصول کو توڑتے ہو، تم جو عقلمند ہو، تم مہربان ہو، تم جو بے رحم ہو، جو صرف میرے لیے محفوظ ہو۔ سب۔ اور مجھے تمہاری ہنسی کا رنگ سب سے زیادہ پسند ہے۔

- from the book, Postcards without an address

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A list of beautiful things to say -

1. Apna khayaal rakha karein

2. Let’s watch the sunset together

3. Ek cup chaye?

4. Remember to drink water

5. Text me when you reach home

6. Do you read books?

7. This reminded me of you

8. Saving this photograph of ours in my favourites gallery

9. There is a new place opening around the corner with our favourite cuisine. Let’s go there together

10. Khush raha karein

- Postcards without an Address

[shisasan]

16 April, 1939 Letters to Véra by Vladimir Nabokov

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- a poem from my book, Postcards without an Address, out now on amazon ❤️

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- picture format of my poem part 1

from the book postcards without an address, page 28

Qamari, my moon 🌙 ❤️

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- picture format of my poem ❤️

Picture credits to owner

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“ I want to remember all the details with which my eyes drink you in. I want to remember the way the light hits your face.”

“The way the wind ruffles your hair. The way flowers crane their necks to look at you. The way the earth longs to meet your feet.”

“I want to remember the way your face acquires a solemn expression when your thoughts are scattered.”

“ Want to remember how your laugh bounces across the walls bringing them to life. Want to remember how the windows reflect your appearance and shimmer with light.”

“Want to remember how the floor misses your feet. Want to remember how lifeless things delight on being touched by your hands.”

“Want to remember the line of my name stitched in your palm. Want to remember the love weaved with it.” - page 28, from the book, Postcards without an Address

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“You know , our memories over the course of time transition into nothingness. They start fading lightly and then after one point, nothing’s left of them”

“ and this scares me. Does this mean that every moment we’ve spent together will turn into eventual nothingness?”

“ but قمري qamari ( my moon ) I do not want to forget. I want to remember you over and over again”

“ I want to remember you the way certain things are meant remembering for. Like the sun, like the stars, like the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen.”

“Like this one line you read that cannot make its way out of your mind. Like poetry, like home like fate.”

- an excerpt from the book, Postcards Without an Address

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“Do you miss her?”

“I'm sorry”

“Do you still miss her?”

“ Yes, yes I do .”

“What was she like ?”

“ She was like a kid, a child” he recalls laughingly.

“ No I mean it. She had the wonder and curiosity of a 7 year old. She’d look at this world with awe evident in her big starry eyes. Life had so many colors through her eyes and she painted my world beautiful. Her sight alone chased the frost away from my heart. Her voice, it was soft like the rain yet she had a sword for a tongue.

And the appearance of dimples on her cheeks was suicide. I would trade the whole world for one more glimpse of her dimples.

Those eyes. Those almond eyes sketched with softness, yet she masked them haughtily. When she was angry, she stomped her feet and huffed with furrowed brows like a child.”

“ The smallest of joys made her happy. And her patience knew no end. She was one of those people who would go out of their way to help others.” he stops melancholic, softness kissing his eyes.

“ She was like the breeze after fajr,

the veiled mystery of twilight.”

- on being asked about love at 90

From the book, Postcards Without an Address

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“ Oh to have your hair dancing with the wind, to have music of winds in your ears, to have your feet waltz on the earth of mountains. My soul craves the freedom of mountains, the realisation of how small truly our problems are and how majestic is this universe and the One who created it!”

- a love letter for God

- Postcards without an Address

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“ We are a story of planning to travel the world together and watching the sunset from the other end of the world knowing very well it’s never going to happen. We are a story where we are always accidentally running into each other.”

- from the book, Postcards Without an Address