wohajnabeehaseena - Tumblr blog

[wohajnabeehaseena]

when naseer turabi said “bichartay waqt un aankhon mein thi humari ghazal, ghazal bhi woh jo kisi ko kabhi sunayi na thi”// when jagjit singh said “hum labon se keh na paaye, un se haal-e-dil kabhi, aur woh samjhe nahi yeh khamoshi kya cheez hai”

[wohajnabeehaseena]

when bano qudsia said, “mard ki khubsurati uski shakal mein nahi, uske alfaaz mein hoti hai. uske alfaaz badsurat ho jayein, toh acha khaasa mard bura lagne lagta hai.”

[wohajnabeehaseena]

Yahan bhi slay and stalk krne aa gyi mai

Le lo meri saari attention

[wohajnabeehaseena]

the ‘pahadi’ girl: eyes full of stars, an undying obsession with Kangra chai, Dhauladhars, dhattu, kullvi shawl on her shoulders, hums ‘kaali ghagri’ whenever homesickness strikes, red lipstick, kaajal, tiny black bindi and jhumke, nose ring, cold hands, makes killer patrode, pahadi accent evident in her voice, a year long kharaash in her throat, long walks in her hometown, red nose, will narrate all the pahadi folklores she knows, Kangra paintings, will speak to you in her native tongue if she adores you.

[wohajnabeehaseena]

“ਵੇ ਮਹਿਯਾ ਤੇਰੇ ਵੇਖਣ ਨੂ

ਚੁਕ ਚਰਖਾ ਗਲੀ ਦੇ ਵਿਚ ਡਾਵਾ”

// “oh beloved, to get your glimpse,

i have placed the charkha in the lane outside”

[wohajnabeehaseena]

when sajjad ali said “zamaane bhar ki baatein un se keh di, jo kehna chahiye tha woh kaha nahin” // when jagjit singh said “hum labon se keh na paaye, un se haal-e-dil kabhi, aur wo samjhe nahin yeh khamoshi kya cheez hai”

[wohajnabeehaseena]

oh when Ustad Hussain Baksh Gullo said ‘peer fareed iss jeewan kolon, asaan kiti maut pasand ve’

[wohajnabeehaseena]

the burnt child in me craves arson.

[wohajnabeehaseena]

mogra dhoop, kailash kher playing in the background, gajra tied on wrists, chandrama on palms

[wohajnabeehaseena]

life hack: do ur readings and go to class

[wohajnabeehaseena]

Meerabai’s bhajans, gajre, henna on palms, bangles, bichhue on toes, nose ring, chikankari, red lipstick, kolhapuri chappal, Shrimad Bhagvad Gita in one hand, tulsi mala looped on the wrist, tiny black bindi, kaajal.

[wohajnabeehaseena]

ah yes, sex is cool but have you heard the way Hozier describes it?

“No masters or kings when the ritual begins/ There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin/ In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene/ Only then I am human/ Only then I am clean”

[wohajnabeehaseena]

yaar de vede aayi tapp tapp galliyan

labhdi firaan mai tainu mal mal akhiyaan

[wohajnabeehaseena]

it’s august and the monsoon is wreaking havoc, and in my heart too. it’s august and i haven’t gotten out of the bed in two hours, staring blankly at the ceiling. it’s august and the night has fallen and the music plays and the tears drop. it’s august and it’s my birthday but the saltiness is in my mouth and so is the coppery blood. i cough my lungs out and the petals fall out, i feel diseased with hanahaki.

[wohajnabeehaseena]

when mahmoud darwish wrote ‘speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life’/ when hozier sang ‘no grave can hold me down, i’ll crawl home to her’/

[wohajnabeehaseena]

Before spring comes

Before it gets warm

Shall we meet?

Before the day comes

When everyone else is asleep

Let’s meet.

Kim Jonghyun, Before Our Spring, Poet | Artist

[wohajnabeehaseena]

“Like a compass needle that points north, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman.”

Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns