senselesswanders

[senselesswanders]

The further I go, the further I am from remembering

[senselesswanders]

I cannot stop remembering

[senselesswanders]

And death comes knocking, and in it's wake there are only regrets

[senselesswanders]

The past and present intertwine, inseparable, heady, breathless

[senselesswanders]

I put my faith in God I put my faith in God I put my faith in God I put my faith in God I put my faith in God I put my faith in God I put my faith-

[senselesswanders]

You flit in and out of my dreams, as if to forget would be a sin

[senselesswanders]

The pains of all those before me, festering in my heart

[senselesswanders]

The summer evenings stretch lazily ahead of me again. I ask the setting rays to teach me how to forget.

[senselesswanders]

Phir hoi kyun bazaari main

[senselesswanders]

And still, I return. I refuse to let the shame bind me.

[senselesswanders]

And the sadness is pervasive, and no matter how much my heart soars, still the fears endure

[senselesswanders]

Every leaving is a cleaving

The heart aches. The soul weeps.

[senselesswanders]

Even as my soul soars towards the heavens, my body reminds me of the tether to this world

[senselesswanders]

These Ramadhan nights have made a home in my heart

[senselesswanders]

There is a sadness I cannot shake

[senselesswanders]

Again, my mind vibrates uncomfortably as it always does. Actually, I am overwhelmed with things I ought to have written about and never found the proper words. I do not let myself think. This is a fact. I cannot face much of the meaning. Shut my mind to anything but work and bowls. And I wonder as I let the month run through my fingers: Can I get out of it? Out of it all? Truth is, I feel all shadows of the universe multiplied deep inside my skin. (Isn't it all dust and ashes?) I am impressed by the transitoriness of human life to such an extent that I am often saying a farewell…and my heart currently resembles the ashes of my cigarettes; in fact, I'm in the mood to dissolve into the sky.

Virginia Woolf, in a diary entry dated 1 July 1918, from The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Vol.I: 1915-1919

[senselesswanders]

daughter: resting place for all her mothers pain