As you start growing up, you start realizing that nothing is ever permanent; how you have to keep struggling for the things you have so that you can keep them. Same goes for relationships, people, friends and so many other things that we used to think were a part of our lives – innocence and a pure pure heart.

Jee Main Ata Hai Tere Daaman Main Sar Jhuka K

Hum Rotay Rahein, Rotay Rahein…

Today was a happy day. I had accomplished something. No, its way more than something. It’s a milestone. Another chapter of my life written and closed, done and dusted for. Suddenly, each passing minute has started making me nauseous. I don’t want the time to pass by. I want it to stop. The unknown is so damn scary. How can anyone jump into that abyss and call it an adventure. Doesn’t it scare you? Looking into the beyond where nothing is in your control? Is there anything ever in our control? This scares me. You scare me. Suddenly I feel so alone.

It was a crazy night. There was the river, the bank of the river, us and fireworks. We were walking, arms entwined, steps in perfect harmony, quiet. When I looked at you, I saw an image so divided and multiplied that it shattered my gaze into a million pieces and just when you looked at me, I averted my gaze, looking towards the midnight sky. Past the midnight strolls and long stretches of quiet walks in the parks, we were just two strangers waiting for our stars to bump into each other. It never happens.

So many words choke on my lips with things I needed to say but I knew it would make no sense to you. Oh, how I knew you will never understand. You have my heart but my mind is so tired of trying to make you see. It’s like we are in this remarkable parody. It’s as if we are meant to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. But this is another day, and I have to live with this other version of your story, another deceit and another disappointment all over again. Somebody told me that it was okay to mourn the loss of love and life. I haven’t even started.

Right after the fireworks by the river, right after the walks of midnight life, right after the untangling of arms, right after another night of silence between us, right after slowly dissolving into nothing, right after breaking down from within, you retract into oblivion and walk away and I pretend that I don’t care.



mareatalha's Blog

Saturated in your filthy words , I feel okay, still. It’s not like I’m brand new. Scratch less or stainless from before. I wear it all, it’s scarred deep in me. Each and every blow of his and yours.
You pick one shard of sharp, broken glass and you scratch your intent each time, then you wipe the oozing blood with your palms , pat me on my cheek and smile. You grant yourself a petty excuse and then you try to apologise.
I have no other route to go, sometimes I dwell too much , other times I just let go. But once in a while when I feel okay , these wretched stains and scratches tickle me, I then look down and I recall, each bruise, each shove and every fall. Everything looses its touch, and then they say I complain too much.
Is any thing ever enough…

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You got me trembling, shaking, praying. Maybe it’s just a nightmare and I’ll fall off the bed and wake up panting for breath. As I lay in my dark room, I know it’s going to get worse, much worse and it won’t stop until I explode. I will explode because it seems like my ears are ringing with screams that I’m trying to muffle in my head. It doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop. Please make it stop. Please make it go away. Only you can make it go away. I’m breathless from crying and my eyes are bloodshot as if I haven’t slept in ages. I haven’t slept in ages. Somehow it feels better to curl up into a ball like a fetus and hold myself and shut my eyes and sob.

But the pain. What of the pain? What of the trust?? The disbelief is humongous. The ashes. My ashes. How could you? I keep asking myself how could you? It was only you and now I don’t have you. It doesn’t end. The night goes on forever.

There are some things that you can never take back, never undo.

Of Wishes and Resolutions.

Three small pills. No wonder it takes you no time to go back into the trance where hoards of memories lay, where cherished dreams are scattered on dusty floors and where you can find your own reflection staring back at you in the mirror on the wall. Life wasn’t this way.

But let me tell you this: no matter how far away and out of reach you seem, I’ll always lend you a hand, even if I can’t figure out the boundaries of darkness and gloom. And even if I can’t fathom what you’re going through, know this honey, that I will always be here for you. We’ll go to bookshops and read books; watch TV shows in bed; drink coffee in the balcony while waiting for the sun to set; tell each other stories; go into little thrift shops in the afternoon and explore; drink smoothies at neat cafes and listen to our kind of music. And on those days when you won’t be so loveable, we’ll stay up, put our arms around each other and cry.

Just so you know honey, I love you so much more than just to the moon and back.






Of November Nights.

Somewhere along the road you’ll find something else to wait on, to hold on to. Hope is a hidden treasure, a sole friend midst a storm, the moon on a dark night. 

Regret they say, is the shadow of the troubled man. And there are none that are not troubled or troublesome. What is weaker than a weakling who thinks he has all the power. You don’t have power if all your actions are dictated by opinionated fools. There’s a shadow there. You just don’t realize it yet. How could you ever be guided by the moon when all you did was kept looking at the distant lights which seemed so near to you but were in fact days away?

It is this time of the year again, love. The fire in the fireplace is about to go out. The noises in the house are next to none. It is hitting you hard – the nostalgia. The yearning of a time when life was a joke. Not all times are fun and time forgives none. You take the last sips from your cup and put it down. Gazing into the flames you think about regrets and how shattered pieces are of no use to anyone. Trust me, regrets are as unforgiving as time. You may think I don’t have any but I have plenty. You were my regret. The regret of loving someone that had a wisdom of a different kind. I could never see it.

There’s no rhyme or reason to the things we do in love. One man’s dream is another man’s nightmare. The fire is about to burn out. Nothing remains except smoke. Somewhere in the background the gramophone plays.

“Now you say, you love me
Well, just to prove you do
Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river
I cried a river over you”

The music is as haunting as the howling of the wolves. There’s no escape. We could have danced. But it was this time of the year again. The fire goes out and the wood turns amber. You hug the picture of us and fall asleep. The music stops.

Love they say, is every man’s regret.

Now it’s yours too…