Tag Archives: lovers

Lovers United

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Depression. It’s like a lover that sweeps me up in its arms and throws me on the bed so hard that I end up breaking no bones but for the next few weeks, I can hardly get out of bed.
No. I don’t want to be yours, anymore. I see it go away and muster the strength to start afresh in life. Every effort against it is a win. I think I’m winning.
But, I am afarid.
I’m afraid that it is still there lingering like a shadow ready to turn into a ghost that will haunt me. It stares at me from outside the window and I am too afraid to let fresh air in because I cannot run the risk of letting it come back.

Depression is back. Sometimes the emptiness in my chest gets so heavy that I find it hard to breath. I end up beating my chest to unclog my lungs in an effort to rid of this disease. It goes away but I’m not sure for how long. I wouldn’t know because last time I spent two months without it and bid it farewell.

What I’m saying is that the dark clouds are back again and like everytime, I fear that there would be no way out of this. I’ll crumple like a piece of paper in the corner of my bed and my bones would sink into the mattress. My chest would be empty and suffocation will be the death of me.
I see it smoking by the door. Depression.
It’s coming at me like a war torn lover coming home.

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I wrote about us

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We were lying in bed
When you talked about
How
I will pen down this moment
A poem or a piece of prose
On eternal bliss
Of lovers meeting
Reunited after separation of months
That seemed like years

Here
This is your God damn poem
Of when you held my heart in your hand
And crushed it
There is the blood splattered on the floor
When you let your demons
Overshadow
And slaughter the love we had raised
It laughed in my face
In the corner innocence cried its heart out
As it clutched on to what remained of its life
Because, it was dying

This is what you get from love
A pocket full of regrets
And shards of broken dreams
I took the sharpest piece today
Of a broken fairytale
And slithered my wrist
I know you did the same
Carrying around your regrets of the day

You said that moment
Was to be written about under bliss
Cheers! Darling this is to our bliss
Some cigarettes and Chivas
With memories painted in hues of remorse
The only bliss we have ever known

Lovers In A World Of Apology

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A lot of times he comes home
His breath lingers with tobacco infused with vodka
Knuckles bruised and torn collar

“I am sorry” he says as his hands hold my wrists tightly
“I didn’t want to be the odd one out”, as his tongue slithers around my neck
“I love you and you know it” as his fingers dig deep inside my skin
And I fall back on the couch crying
Taking the name of a Lord that he long stopped believing in
“Please, forgive me” as his kisses try to soften the ice inside my soul
I forgive him
Because
I am a fly caught in a spiders’ web

We have been together for three years
He knows how to make me smile
That somehow makes it okay for him to treat me the way he does
“You’re an emotional roller coaster”, he says

He doesn’t know that I take lithium in breakfast
and Prozac after food
I long stopped explaining and he never asked, anyway

I ask him,” if you were to die tomorrow? What would be your biggest regret?”
He looks at me like I’m insane and laughs
“People like me don’t have any” and his lies jab me in the gut
Because, I know what he is hiding

“ I am sorry, what do you want?” he pleads
And I know that nothing can be done
His sincerity is blinded by false bravado
So I let it go
Knowing that the cycle is bound to repeat

I call shotgun as he smokes the entire ride
You should watch how delicately he holds a smoke by the waist
His habits stab me in the heart
But the type of pain, I am now accustomed to

Today I saw him on the opposite end
Our eyes met but we didn’t talk
He knows that I can be cold as ice
But when he smiles at me it all turns to flames

He seems ashamed in the morning
Dressing up my wounds and every sentence dripping an apology
But his eyes twinkle like they aren’t ashamed at all
The tone of sincerity has been long forgotten
“I won’t ever hurt you, again” and I blindly believe him

“Someday I will leave you”, I say
“And that day we will be in our graves, side by side” he replies
But most days I am accepting him open arms
When my baby shows up broken at my doorstep

My demon is black and loves blue
He throws gasoline on my red flames
And calls it a day

My love is a wolf cloaked in childish innocence
He sleeps outside my door and howls my name

A bit of it remained

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Like all things sweet that fade away
Or all things bitter that carve a space
She gave power to everything that would not last long
Or something that would take root in her
Watching it slip through her hands like sand
It was her way of feeling alive in the moment
Most of it ended
A bit of it remained
Hoping that someday this hopelessness fades away too
Or maybe it makes a home forever to stay

Black Widow in Red

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She had big dough eyes and a thin nose. She smiled mockingly at me and loved red. I liked it when she wore her red silk dress and whirled around like a ballerina. She always had her hair tied up but they perfectly fell on her face.

Her eyes gleamed as she used to say, “I would go away”. I did not believe her who would if you ask me? The way she worshipped me in between silk sheets and sleek poetry that reflected my existence as her God. She was divine with her words when she told me that she liked to kiss me after I had smoked or how she loved to claw her nails in my arm each night as we made love.

I had bruises every night. I smiled at them every damn morning!

I looked at her sprawled up on the bed like a delicate doll that might break with the slightest touch but then she looked me in the eyes, many times and said, “I will only build you up just enough to break you down. ” I did not believe her when she said that and her stare turned cold for she always leaned in and kiss me after that. She touched me tenderly and wrapped her legs around my waist not wanting to let go. If I go down she might crumble as well, I used to think to myself.

“Love is a gamble and I never play fair. I give off the illusion of putting my heart in the gamble but in reality it is just a rotten box, instead.” She used to say this whenever I claimed to love her. I told her that I want to carve a hole in the box and stay there but she told me during lonely nights that the box is rotten with termites so there is no use of staying in abandonment. Love for me was war with the world to keep her by my side even, if the Gods were against me I swear I would have fought till my last breath.

She smiled in her silk red dress and wooed me every time. She told me all these secrets about her but asked me to never claim her as mine.

Till, one day, I returned home and she was not there. The bed was neatly done and not messed up with her in between. The air didn’t smell of her perfume and I noticed the red dress was gone as well. I found no notes or goodbyes, just emptiness in the air. I waited for her, maybe she would come back? I realized that she was gone like all the things she says she eventually leaves when she sucks the life out of them. I spent the night drinking and smoking.

I did not shed a tear like betrayed lovers do, for she always told me that she would leave but it was I who never believed. I kept looking down the lane at every car that passed me by hoping that maybe, she changed her mind.

As each hour passed my hope died as well, the lady in the red dress had done her job well. She took out my heart and replaced it with a box and at 5 am there were no bruises on my back or hickeys on my neck but a feeling of termites making way inside my heart shaped box. Nobody recited Hemingway for me and I watched the sun come up,

I went to work like all men do, but deeply knowing,

“I fell victim to a black widow dressed in red and nothing else.”

When in doubt…

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I don’t know if I make sense, but I try hard to make sure that you of all people understand. I want you to know that, I am like a wooden cabinet and not the glamor you see or I fool people with. In me reside fear and insecurities. In the corner you will find doubt spreading like termites. I am unsure of how life will be-but I try to make the best of it because I don’t know whatelse to do when things go down like a house of cards.
I am scared and more than scared I am terrified of losing things and people who mean the most to me. I have lost people but it doesn’t fit in how one second can put a dent of permanent absence. I have been left stranded on the shore by people who claimed to stay by my side a lifetime.
I am unsure of most of the things I want in life, big cities, money, lights and glamor they don’t seem not enough. I shift from one thing to the other like changing gears during a race on the highway.
I am lethal but warm at the same time and that doesn’t fit in the density of my cerebrum. I seep into veins like poison in a struggle to make home.
I do things to fuck me up and then repeat because one lesson isn’t enough for me. How many times have I puked in cracks and found God in narrow corridors-I don’t know.
I don’t know if I make sense to you but I try hard to make sure that you of all people understand that even with my doubts, fear, insecurities and nightmares of being lost there is one thing I am sure of that nobody will love you as I do. Nobody would be by your side like I am.

You&I

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You and I look at eachother like the rest don’t exist
You make me want to grab you by the neck
Push you in a corner
And taste the stars on your lips
Explore the constellations that you behold
For once in the dark with a shimmer of light
Let me inhale you like smoke
And make you resonate in my bones

Lets call it love

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You and I, became “we” but not suddenly it was gradual. You were there to listen and I was there to guide you. Those evening spent in empty parking lots kicking cans and smoking cigarettes became the best memories. I remember, you told me how crowds scare you. I told you that you won’t ever be scared again and I’ll hold your hand. I told you how I’m scared of the dark and you said that you’ll always be the light.
I was just me, not pretending to be someone. You knew I acted in front of the whole world but not you. You talked and not just superficially because I knew you never talked much in people but you talked about the world with me.
I became your shoulder to gain strength from and you became mine to cry on. This was not sudden. I really haven’t seen a movie or read a book that showed this bond we share.
It happened gradually and with time. Between the first time we talked to where we are now, I felt for you what I’ve never felt before so for now lets just call it love.

Dead Love

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deadlove1How is it possible to love and hate somebody at the same time? The two emotions mixing and mingling and lay one confuse to decide what she actually felt? Be addicted and repulsed by someone at the same time? I think I’m going rather insane here but I’ve always been like this so confused and torn up in a mental dispute. I dreamt of this time often in those naïve summer nights when the only known from of intimacy to me was a kiss. HA-HA makes me chuckle every time and yet I lay here on top of this man inhaling his breath and feeling him skin to skin and hearing his heart loudly pounding. I don’t know whether to cry or laugh at this state in which life has placed me now? This man was my friend and my enemy at the same time. As I lay on top of him exhausted from our spinster bliss, I grinned at him with that of a lover and an enemy. “Satisfied much or hungry for more?” I asked with my eyes closed. I never did reach my peak with him of all the times of our intimacy. I faked it much like how I faked my every emotion and every move when I was with him. But today oh today I experienced the pleasure of being a woman. I curled up against him and thought to myself as why do I keep meeting the man when I hate him so much? Why do I confine myself to him in this chamber and get goose bumps just by staring in those blue eyes. Am I deceiving myself to be in love or am I just deriving lust from his bod? How can emotions of mine so ugly to me have such a beautiful outcome? My world was bright and clear yet it blurred around the edges and that’s where HE was! Between the lines of the real and the blur and I still had to put him in order…

I never realized when I doze off but my cellphone rang and with a fast beat I got up and looked at it “aaaah! Fuck I’m late” as I looked at the clock and it was already 6 in the evening. I got dressed and gathered my belongings and woke him up to inform that I was leaving, I was in a hurry but we still managed to exchange several kisses and an empty “I love you” and soon I was out on the empty road. I was walking or rather pacing down the street as when I reached the corner I looked back and saw the old house standing there all alone. “I must do something, this can’t carry on much longer “ this was the only mumble in my mind as I got to my apartment and made my way in. it was all in a mess and when I tried to turn the lights on an involuntary “fuck no electricity!!” came out of my mouth…and so to kill the heat off I went straight in the shower and stood under the cold water pouring down and cleaning out his smell. But that bastard had a very committed scent and even when I was done I could feel him around me…wrapping me up in his sole existence.

A harry does the trick of putting you to sleep when you can’t as I lay there sweating on the bed with no electricity and mosquitoes sucking the blood out of me and so I thought….. and had a long and hard thought about how I shall make him mine now and forever…it was just a matter of hours now and he would be mine forever…my hatred grew when I was away and yet my love peaked when I was with him. Ohh consequential heart I thought to myself and with the thoughts of how I shall make him mine I dozed off…the next day when I woke up and got done with my worldly duties I made my way to my lovers place…and there he was as always waiting for me with those blue eyes as deep as the wavering ocean ,poetic much? But one does become that way when love takes over. And there it was the moments of my guilty pleasure awaiting me as I kneeled down and looked at him straight in the eye! Our eyes met and I stared at them for long he knew what was going on in my mind and I could hear his pacing heartbeat, the silence consumed us and I made love to him a hundred times just by looking in those eyes…now was the final step towards making him mine and I knew I couldn’t screw this up, I loved him and hated him. He knew he did me wrong so many times but I let it go every time but this time there was no forgiveness…my lover had to die and I had to make sure that he did. Reminds me of Bukowski at the moment “find something you love and let it kill you” but this time it was the opposite I found something I loved and I was going to kill it…the sudden rush filled me with joy and pain at the same time as I looked him in the eyes the last time, laid a kiss on those lips and felt the wetness of it with tears pouring down his face I pressed the trigger and let my lover bleed while the tobacco burned and churned in the final lethal flame…

Running Away (Chapter 4)

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Fakhir? Him? I was guilty of betraying a man who loved me, but I was betrayed by the love of my life too. Isn’t that how the world works? Fake promises and empty words? Not revealing the true motives behind anything and not being sincere to anyone? I questioned God’s existence when I abandoned him. Did I kill God in that moment or was he already dead when I became what Akram was by betraying Fakhir?

Betrayal? I betrayed and got betrayed and I know how it cripples you. Trusting someone so much that in the end, you forget how to feel anymore. Being at the top of the world and someone pushes you. Speed, darkness and coldness embracing you. Gravity calling you back to your roots such that when you fall, you don’t fall on the surface where you once started the journey from, but instead, you sink 10 inches deeper into the core with no way of escape.

 It was my 6th month in Jahaan ara’s kotha and by now I was devoid of any emotion and my identity was no more than of an insect in the bitter dirty pit of the earth. I had by now admitted the fact that I was to die in the kotha and my coffin was to be carried out from here. Ironic how it was all true but instead of being in a coffin I was going to be dumped in the sewers.

“And in the stars that fill the sky

In the sun that shines so bright

In our stars that have aligned

I would say a million times

That

I LOVE YOU”

 

This poem of his echoed in my mind, crashing and tumbling across the barriers of pain and I realized that even in agony, I was smiling. My naive poetic lover and his magical words, the sole person who made me smile till the end. It’s strange how sometimes when a stranger meets another stranger, they fall into the pit of attachment so deeply that even the risks seem of no danger.

“Hi! You seem awfully down”, I remembered he said to me when he first came to me in the kotha.

I looked up from my bed at the shadow of a boy in his 20’s, neatly dressed, resembling those rich lads I sometimes saw in Lahore’s posh malls on my visit with Akram. On our first encounter I was rude.

”Don’t be nice, just get it over with and leave!” I was angry but amused at the same time because up till now none of my clients had ever talked to me that way.

“I’m not being nice. Anyways, my name is Fakhir! And you are?”

I was astonished, since nobody had asked me my name here before.

“Dur-e-Shahwaar” I responded. I remember a certain feeling, as if something in me was blooming from the decay again and I switched on the lights to get a good view of this “Fakhir”.

A tall young man with small eyes and a bit of plump cheeks and a button nose was standing in front of me. This was odd since boys like him don’t ever come to places such as these, unless they belong to the blue collar community.

“Nice! I’ll call you Durre! Mind if I sit?” he asked me.

“Sure, sit. You paid for it and I owe you.”

He sat in the front chair and I noticed that he had a charming yet sinful grin on his face. Something awfully attractive and devilishly charming in his ways. He ran his hand through his puff every now and then.

“Relax! I’m not going to do anything so you better calm down that anger. I paid for the night, don’t worry. I may stay or leave, don’t know about that.” And he lit a smoke.

“You don’t know? That’s a first.” I replied because this was all confusingly amusing and then he told me.

Fakhir’s father was the senator and his mother a human rights activist. His parents were divorced and since Fakhir was the sole child, one can imagine how spoiled he was. His parents wanted him to become a civil servant but since he was more into arts and poetry, he had made a plan on how to make his parents succumb to what he wanted. His “bachi”, inferring that he had a lover, had left him for another man ever since he denounced being in the government service and, caught with a broken heart, some friends recommended him to come at the kotha.

“To heal a broken heart, you replace the void a person created with a new someone”, he said.

“But I’m a whore, there should be a difference. No?” I replied.

“Does it matter? I just want to talk. I’m not going to touch you; I respect women. Besides, I have a lot on my heart and mind that I want to talk about and you’re the perfect person to listen to my rant.” he said, laughing cheekily.

A typical line that some men used on me before. Well, many did and asked me about myself and how I ended up in the trade, but I always remained quiet since I knew how strict Jahaan ara was towards females who interacted with the customers, beating them up and taking their food away for days.

That first night he talked and talked about himself, which was sweet in a way because he gave my opinions the same importance. This was all sparingly strange but nice, because it had been long since I was given importance or in the true sense of the word, respect.

“It was nice meeting you Durre. I had fun talking. I’ll come again.”

To which I nodded, since all the men who came here said the same thing and left. It was 6 am when he left the first day, that too when someone knocked on the door since the business was now closing and the police was here to collect their share of the income.

The next night I heard loud music playing from outside the kotha; some woman had given birth to two twin girls and all the pimps in the muhala were celebrating. I learnt here that girls carry more importance than men in the trade. Someone knocked on the door and I sat up for my first customer of the night, anticipating that it was Fakhir for some reason. But to my dismay it was a man wanting his 20 minutes of pleasure.

After he left, I remained in bed for a while. My head was aching badly. Suddenly, there was another knock on the door. I didn’t have the strength to look up and I buried my head in the pillow. 

“Hi there Durre!” and with that sound I sat up straight. It was him. Involuntarily, I replied “you’re late!” and he laughed.

 “You were waiting for me?” responded he with a smirk.

Realizing that I had shown emotional leakage, I responded “No! What was your name again mister?”

He gave out a loud laugh “Yeah! Right, tell me am I not your heart’s beat now? A familiar stranger to you? You met me yesterday but why is it hard to not expect a light to shine in your heart’s dark halls.” Said he.

“Come ‘on, your poetic charms shall not work here mister Ghalib.” I replied and he laughed again.

Eventually, his frequent visits at the kotha became regular, and after some months, I realized that I used to wait for him to come. He used to read me poetry of Rumi and Hafez, bring me gifts every now and then and talk about his life- family, friends and the struggle of becoming something big. Days passed, months went by and now I was habitual to see him. Even if I had customers, I would somehow make time for “him”. This wasn’t love, but a certain attachment, a fondness for this man.

Then one day, sitting on my bed, he was reciting the poem “The Joy That Wounds” by Rumi, and his hand touched my face to put the strand of hair I had on my cheek behind my ear. His hand stopped for a moment and in that eye contact, I felt my pulse racing. We were eternal in that moment with his lips against mine, his hands sealed in mine, skin to skin and bone to bone. His exhale was my inhale and the eternal bliss made time stop….

 I didn’t see him for 2 days after that, and in his remoteness I felt my heart dying again. Maybe he wanted his “20 minutes” after all. I could hear my heart calling out for its beloved and it involuntarily cried, the ruined land bloomed once again only to be ruined again, and then he came. Our intimacy carried its form every now and then. I really didn’t mind because pleasure is what I owed him and he paid for. This continued for several months, him and me, till one evening, I felt I was awfully sick. My stomach was upset and I vomited every now and then and my head felt heavy. Jahaan ara took me to the doctor who had a clinic nearby and then the news struck me like thunder. I was pregnant. I knew whose child it was, it belonged to Fakhir. Jahaan ara was happy all the way. She even brought me fruits on my way back and eagerly revealed that she prayed it was a girl, but to me, this news was like a bullet in my dead heart. How could I give birth to a child where I am now? I would be its culprit, bringing it in this world to be called only a “harami”, with no father at all. Would Fakhir even own this child? Who would treat this child with respect? The society shuns us and our illegitimate children behind the walls of religion and morals. What if it was a girl? Would she see the same fate as I did in this place? Would she earn for Jahaan ara too and never see daylight? Millions of questions came to my mind and I planned on breaking the news to Fakhir when he came.

I remember breaking the news to him and how a pulse of joy spread over his face, like those kids in the candy shop. He kissed my temple and took full charge of it all. He was excited and ready to take full responsibility of the child’s expenses but I stopped him for now and told him not to talk to Jahaan Ara about it. Day by day I started to notice a change in him. He used to hate it if he came and I had customers, and suddenly became possessive till one day, the possessiveness hit its peak and he didn’t look the same. He looked like a man suddenly grown up and with an aim.

“I want you to come with me Durre. Leave this, I’ll accept you for who you are. Just come with me, please” Said he.

My heart had been slaughtered once by the hands of a cruel butcher, and I wasn’t going to fall for the lies again. The less hope for my soul, the better it is.

“I can’t come with you. You were a customer and that’s that. My husband sold me here, why should I even trust you? Now leave! I have other people waiting.”

“Let me just take you away! I’m not Akram and we’ll run away. You’re having my child Durre and I love you!”

“RUN AWAY? You love me?” I laughed. The wound on my heart bled again. “Running away?? I’ve been butchered once, not again. Go! Run! Don’t you ever come back. I don’t want this child. I don’t want this baby to grow up and meet an atrocious future.” I realized that I was screaming.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, think about it Durre. Please?” He said and went away.

 I lurched to my bed, thinking about it all. Customers came and went. The whole night I regretted and pondered over how I treated Fakhir, and then it hit me. I can use Fakhir to escape now, can’t I? I don’t want this child, but this is the only way he’ll accept me. I could get away from this place once and for all. He loved me and I didn’t, but it’s not necessary to love back when loved. Why not just escape and give him the baby when it’s born? Then I could be free. Thoughts clustered in my mind and by the next morning, I had made up my mind to go with him. Plans for leaving him when I was out of this place or maybe staying were all for the future, and my focus was on the present, on running away from the kotha. I thought over it again and again being dual minded and, at night, Fakhir came again……

TO BE CONTINUED

here are the previous parts

http://wp.me/p2DY5k-4P part 1
http://wp.me/p2DY5k-4Z part 2
http://wp.me/p2DY5k-5z Part 3