aedilkisikiyaadmein - Tumblr blog

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

the world needs more handwritten letters confessing love

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

zindagi se dard gayab hojana hai agar mard gayab hogye toh-

FAXXX 💅🏼

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

I may think of you softly from time to time, but I swear I'll cut my hands off if they ever reach out for you again.

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

Found this on pinterest had to put it here

Tradwives need to realize the seriousness of the shit they are getting themselves into.

The society isn't all that kind to women.

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

Loving someone will ruin your favorite songs!

-Yash

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

leave me near the sea shore and never ask me to return, please?

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

Sometimes I feel weirdly and openly liberated, as if I am just a visitor, a passerby, a traveller seeking another destination soon, who is enamored by various sights until she has to go to the next, and then there are days where the journey feels deeply lonely, and all I want is to light a fire at night, and talk to a few people, listening to their stories, and sharing mine, until the sun comes over, and my eyes still possessing a waking gleam of life.

Beauty. Poetry. Passion. Romance.

Then one day, it feels to be limitless, to be a God, a flawed God, but God nevertheless. Immortal, and undefined, surrounded by the best and the worst, yet nothing attaches to this flesh of mine for long, because immortality weaves into my soul fitted in a mortal cage. To watch people and their stories, and never be a part of one, to witness smiles and tears of one, until you meet the next character, the next tale and life flits by, you never earned a friend or foe, because all relations end with death.

And then this loneliness of either the passionate artist or the flawed god clouds me. The great Void beckons me closer, and I leap, my soul finding home in the vast clear void.

All there is left is an old parchment, a God's brush and a body of a character, I can recognize from a recent story.

Mine.

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

अपने दिल की कश्ती को वश में कर लिया था मैंने,

की तुम्हारे तट पे भूले-बिसरे न पहुंचे,

मगर ये कश्ती मेरे दिल की तरह नादान थी

खींची चली आई तुम्हारे पास

तुम्हारे होने का एहसास खोजने को

न जाने कब ये आने वाले सैलाब को थामना सीखेगी

न जाने कब ये खुद को बचाने का प्रयत्न करेगी।

bahara

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

मेरी पंक्तियां बिखरने लगते 

जब तुम्हारे मेरे फासले बढ़ने लगते है

मेरी सियाही रूठने लगती है

जब तुम्हारी जबान से नाम फिसलने 

लगते है

बस एक क्षण अगर 

तुम अपनी आखों से मुझे बांध लो 

अपनी हृदय का एक कतरा मुझे 

सौंप दो 

मेरी हथेली पर अपने हाथ रख कर

उसे सितारों के आसमान सा सजा दो 

तो शायद मेरे मोहल्ले में 

रूठा अमावस भी

चांद के प्रेम में 

झलक जाय,

मेरे दरवाजे पर परवाने फिर

लौट आए,

अगर बस तुम्हारा थोड़ा प्रेम 

मेरी चौखट पर आहट दे जाय।

-bahara

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

maybe i deserve someone better but i always wanted it to be you

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

maybe i should've prayed a lil more to the dark lords

to keep your wrinkled hands close to mine,

perhaps they are unhappy and hence

their raging shadows suffocate me in

the four walls of dark mines.

-bahara

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

Wish I could introduce all the Swifties to Amit Trivedi and Amitabh Bhattacharya because "Kabr par Meri sar utha ke khadi ho Zindagi, aise Marna hai mujhe" are you fucking kidding me I insist people learn Hindi just to grasp the poetry of that song lyric

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my loneliness, in the blue-silver of the cold moon, shining brilliantly on the drifts of fresh-fallen snow, with the myriad sparkles. I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being.

Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

...but you taught me to live and breathe poetry

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

maturity is realising kuch mard hote hin zahil hai!

[aedilkisikiyaadmein]

SHE IS COMING, THAT TIME OF THE YEAR!! rang birange sadke, khubsurat sham, naye kapde,dher saare jhumke, DURGA PUJA IS COMING!FINALLY!!