The Night I Slept With A Smile And Two Pillows.

 

The night I slept with a smile and two pillows…

Usually my nights are dark, they are remorseful and apprehensive. Usually, my nights are what life would be without the Sun and stars with no spark. This very night was unusual, it wasn’t like any of the ones before. Someone opened up to me, unlocked their door. The one who rarely does so, but then it flowed beautifully. By the end, I realized what it meant to me. Like the leaves to the tree, like the grains of sand to the desert, like the water to the ocean and to a child, his innocence. It mattered a lot for my happiness. It was a strangely good night for the feelings that flow. That night I slept with a smile and two pillows.

The night I slept with a smile and two pillows…

Was a very unusual night. It reminded me of blissful moments and the painful furrows. It was dark as usual but something was unusually bright. I poured my heart into words unsaid. I made every thought visible as if I were transparent. I laid there on my bed, dictating him what was already apparent. I stumbled over the words in the dark and my senses were wide awake. I spent every emotion and revealed my heart break. He consoled in a light manner, brought alive the happy memories. My inner calamities suddenly stopped. He advised, complemented and jokingly mocked, until my little smile popped. This was the night I slept with a smile and two pillows.

 

This first paragraph of this verse is written by Khuzaima Anwar (@iKhuzaima) and the second one by myself.

Life And Death.

We are created from the same sand.

To dive into the seas and walk the land.

 

We are given each a heart, to love and care.

To praise the Lord for the blessings He spared.

 

We are equal here and we will be equal then.

When the life will cease and the death will begin.

Love Ascension

You were the blazing flame,

And I the drop of water.

I wished I could preserve you

And keep you for later.

 

 

                                                                                                     You were the drop of water

and I a blazing ball of flame.

The moment I fell in love with you,

was when I saw you untamed.

 

The distances were wide and

boundaries vast, I had a fear

I wanted to reach you but,

what if you burn me when I am near.

 

 

Burning was my future,

with out a hope of any lasting place.

But right then you came flowing,

like a damsel misplaced.

 

 

There was you and then there was me,

together we could be.

Everything vanishes in thin air

and love is to be set free.

 

I wanted to touch you, I wanted to feel

each slice of your essence.

But alas, we couldn't meet

along the intact world's boundaries.

 

 

Yet there we found a hope.

We united by a piece of magic veil.

wearing which my light went dim,

You became a nightingale.

 

 

I would wear it all day to be with you.

And I love the shimmering light.

I want to dance a happy dance

and twist in your arms with delight.

 

 

Your songs, your dances,

my smiling vignette, our loving grace.

I remember all nights of our union

and each moment of our embrace.

 

But in those times of comfort,

we lost sense of time and place.

Someone abducted from us,

Our veil of love and innocence.

 

 

I was a damsel in distress

and I would roll on the ground,

To find those happy times

with my love to be around.

 

You were the angry flame

And you lit up the night.

You were there even then,

I could see the blinding light.

 

 

I parted with you to be on love's quest,

sniffing hope and searching its trace.

I left you in grief then,

I stole your comfort and solace.

 

 

You're desolated behind my back,

all you had were memories and pain.

But I got lost amidst my way,

never to return again.

 

 

We were there yet we were apart,

our veil that was snatched,

I could have given all of my self,

To have it back fully patched.

 

 

While I was seeking hope,

Someone put me on their stamp.

I was burning with all my might,

I was now someone's lamp.

 

 

I looked up to and you were my strength,

I could never have given up.

I tried what I could to end it

And I had to stand up.

 

 

You found your way back to me,

like a bird searching for its tree.

You found me in the prison I was caught,

You tried all night to get me free.

 

 

My efforts all in vain, I waited there

all night by your side.

Grieving the invasive grief,

that we both couldn't really hide.

 

 

By the morning, you evaporated with the heat of the Sun.

My captivator allowed me to fade.

You became the vapor and I the smoke,

that's how our union sealed the fate.

 

This is poem written by Ali Sohani (the parts of "the flame") and Myself (the parts of "the water drop").

www.alisohani.wordpress.com

 

And most of all the inspiration : http://tiny.cc/zr1lgx

Infinite words.

“The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are things you get ashamed of, because words make them smaller. When they were in your head they were limitless; but when they come out they seem to be no bigger than normal things. But that's not all. The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried; they are clues that could guide your enemies to a prize they would love to steal. It's hard and painful for you to talk about these things ... and then people just look at you strangely. They haven't understood what you've said at all, or why you almost cried while you were saying it.”    
- Stephen King, The Body.

Yes, there is nothing better than words to convey your feelings. Yet, sometimes words aren't satisfactory. They won't do justice to the vast and epic boundaries of your heart where lies the door. The door which opens into the world outside and lets you see things. But can you ever do the justice to what you have ever felt or you do feel or you will feel in the future?

Even simplest and shortest words make memories. Yet sometimes verbosity doesn't leave any mark on your soul. For you, your words are what matters the most. Those words that when you speak, your insides are under the wildest calamities. Those words that when you speak, your world rings up by the melodious bells. Those words that when you speak, light up your aura and brighten up your bodily disguise. Those words that when you speak, you feel drowned or captivated in the gloomiest dungeons.
And there are words, which are infinite. They are infinite in infinite moments. But, they are inaudible. You won't hear yourself speak them. You will only discern their gravity and their impact. Your heart speaks on it's own. It renders you in the awe of that moment. Whether you feel elated or you are grieved. Some times words have no language. They are spoken in the language of your soul. You try the hardest to speak up but you only manage a single word of ambiguity or an endless moment of silence. And the voice of silence sounds more satisfactory that you could spend your time in living it. You find the connection. The connection to your soul and all becomes clear. You have no words but you have a soul. You have infinite things to say instead you choose silence. That is how something's are felt and better said.
 

The Other Pain.

When I was a little girl, I always used to have this thing in mind that I should not cry in front of anyone no matter what, either they be my family members or my school fellows. I was 6 or 7 years of age perhaps. I used to suppress my urge to cry every time when I got wounded badly. Wounds, which I was very prone to. Wounds, which bled. Wounds, which took time to heal. Wounds, which remind you of the immense blessing of Allah that he created you with every thing so beautifully put in place. Yes, I never used to cry over the superficial wounds that I used to get quite often.  

As a child, I didn't cry when I had an accident and my forehead was injured. I didn't cry when my finger was trapped in the door lock and my nail got off. I didn't cry when I once was scarred by the bangle which cut deep. I didn't cry when I fell on the road once and my knees and elbows were badly hurt. I didn't just cry. I don't like crying over such things. 

I believe one should be strong to bear the pain. Be patient. Be calm. It goes away. It fades away. Body wounds heal in no time. Only scars are left which are lifeless and cold. Such wounds don't matter. Such wounds aren't vital. Such wounds aren't a thing to be afraid of. To cry on.

Then there is other pain. A pain that you feel not because you're bearing it but because you can feel the pain in others around you. You can feel for their pain. The pain that puts you more close to to the people around you than ever. The very kind of pain which renders people hopeless yet it knits a bond stronger than before among them. It's this pain that we live in families. We live in societies. We live as a nation. We feel. We are close in times of pain.

This pain makes me cry. Yes I cry. I cried when my brother had an accident. I cried when my nephew had a terrible wound on his finger that he could have lost it. I cried  when my father got operated. I cried when my mother was ill. I cried when a close relative lost her third baby too. I cried. And I cry. Only because I feel.

Crying doesn't make you weak. It doesn't prove you're strong either. It's just a natural thing. Those who feel, they cry. It is all about the sensitivity. How much you're able to feel for others . This makes you human. Crying helps, sometimes.