Well You Might Be Onto Something Here Yk. Given That Patricide And Regicide Were The Most Serious Of

Morning of Eid ulAdha right before the Eid Prayer, Masjid anNabawi, Madinah

Photos taken October 4, 2014, 6:50am.

Vogue Italia

This past year has been a struggle. Point being that I have not forgotten and a certain someone's mood board lies in wait of being posted.

Yes pleaseSSSEEE

the man IS SPINNING AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT in his grave after the travesty they made of his work, like you can't tell me THIS ISN'T HIS GHOST:

i think we should resurrect nabokov and give him a knife and let him at the lolita nymphet waif core people

रूह ने छू ली जिस्म कि ख़ुश्बू

तू जो पास आयी

तू जो पास आयी

तू जो पास आयी

Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!

For such as we are made of, such we be.

.......

O time! thou must untangle this, not I;

It is too hard a knot for me to untie!

In defense of Demeter (who seems constantly villainized in recent interpretations)

तू जहाँ जहाँ चलेगा मेरा साया साथ होगा मेरा साया साथ होगा…

कभी मुझको याद करके, जो बहेंगे तेरे आँसू तो वहीं पे रोक लेंगे, उन्हें आ के मेरे आँसू

मैं अगर बिछड़ भी जाऊँ, कभी मेरा ग़म न करना मेरा प्यार याद करके, कभी आँख नम न करना

तू कोई जनम भी लेगा मेरा साया साथ होगा…

I would have opened this letter with a ‘dear’, however I wondered for a long time if it would indeed be a correct way for me to address you, after all this time. A lifetime seems to have passed between that evening of 1952 and now, sometimes even making me feel that I have slept through the last 30 years. I would often look at faces of my children and grandchildren, wondering if I am stuck in some never ending dream from which I might wake up any minute now. My hair has greyed in the fringes of my temple and forehead, my smile is showing signs of wrinkle and my fingers feel heavy. It’s not a terrible feeling, I enjoy my experiences most of the time, but sometimes my body feels like it is living the life of someone else. And that in a different timeline I am still there playing with you behind that tree.  Is it still there? I was so sure I will forget everything, you, those lanes, that house and all else. Are you also there? Do you also, like me, go to sleep in the expectation of reliving our lives till 16 years of age again and again, like listening to a record on loop or going to see one particular cinema multiple times? If you are coming back from there, can you accompany me back to myself as well please?

This night seems to be taking all away from me again. The moon is cruel.

//Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;

If our two loves be one, or, thou and I

Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.//

The Good Morrow, John Donne