George Seferis, from Collected Poems; "Memory I" (tr. Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)
[Text ID: I whispered: memory hurts wherever you touch it,]

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George Seferis, from Collected Poems; "Memory I" (tr. Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)
[Text ID: I whispered: memory hurts wherever you touch it,]
“I’m not really here I’m only the shape of the emptiness that holds me”
— Cecilia Vicuña, from “Hallwalls Contemporary Art Center: Buffalo, NY, September 27, 1998,” Spit Temple tr. Rosa Alcalá (via lifeinpoetry)
“He turned me into an object and I turned him into a god. How sick is that?”
— (via paintdeath)
“I don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you’d better go.”
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned.
Ask not of the night of separation; it came, and it passed away
My heart found a way to please itself again; life found a way to get back on track again
Faiz Ahmad Faiz || Written at Jinnah hospital Karachi in 1953
Book : Nuskha Hai Wafa (Pg. 245)
मेरी तो यहीं इच्छा थी कि शाम को सूरज ढले, चाय धीमी आंच पर उबले और टेबल की दूसरी तरफ मुस्कुराते तुम कुछ कहो, कुछ सुनो
रातों को, चांद की रोशनी में,
तुम्हारे बालों में हाथ फेर,
गीत सा गुनगुनाना है
"बड़े अच्छे लगते है, ये धरती, ये नदियां , ये रैना और तुम
“How changed, how full of ache, how gone,”
— John Keats, from The Complete Poems and Selected Letters; “Endymion,”
I'm Draupadi's open Hair, No longer symbolising oppression,
but freedom
I am not the endless piece of cloth lying on the assembly floor
I am Vasudev's Sudarshan chakra, Beheading Dushasana as he tries touch Draupadi
I'm not the cold silence, the looking away, the helplessness
I'm the burning rage and you won't be spared
I'm the woman,
The woman smudging blood reeking from her knife on the veil they handed me
; Smiling softly , as someone tells me how women must behave
And later smuggling daggers in my purse
I'm the bird flying over the horizon you think you've caged but you could never cage me
I'm not the colour of vermilion
I'm red, Blood red/ fearless laughter/soft smile/ staring straight into your eyes/Behind the curtains/ your recurring horror
Cozy sundays<3
Just want to be a cat cuddling with her lover
Pictures -pinterest
Sun re sajaniyaaaaaaaaa💃
Ali Zafar meri jaaannn
I think both Qala and Jagan have one thing in common that they both die when their art is snatched away from them
From Qala, repeatedly when her mother nags her and thinks she isn't good enough and from Jagan when his everything, his voice is snatched away from him
Qala (Netflix 2022)
The details,the cinematography, the albumn so so beautiful
#qala
I try to contain contain it in my heart, But it's too loud ; the reverberating voices, soft giggles, the forgotten song, the childhood that slips , all that I have to let go
And my hands running down your collarbone is just someone tracing their way back home.
-Bhav