The Love Letter!

Dear Beloved!

Where from shall I start? Wait, let me first ease myself.  It has been my fantasy since long now, to write a love letter because for now it is an obsolete thing to do. I do believe that someday one of my colony pigeons, white in colour with a ruby bracelet in the neck, will learn how to cover a distance between us, but for now we have to bear to settle without that.

Evenings for me have always been blissful and mystic, but that Saturday when you were sitting just next to me it happened to redefine the meaning of romance. Your presence was sharp, clean like a new born baby tempting me to touch you, hold you and let you be familiar to me, but I was too scared of hurting your soft gesture. As the colours of the blaze were setting, I kept watching them as they were reflecting through your stillness. They kept glowing your skin a bit more than that of the autumn struck Chinar leaf, O’ You beauty! You pause me every time I check on you.

Recall, the shiver that did pass around through your strong self. Well! That alertness happened to give me goose bumps. While the cold currents of the wind did touch your rough skin and you got engaged in settling yourself I was busy watching the warmness of you dropping like the droplets of the rain skidding my window pane. Low at noise and much of an elegance.

Remember, the bonfire we lit? Did you notice how the colours of the sky did compliment the fire? The flames were racing into the sky and the smoke was forming patterns like newlywed couples meeting first time in each other’s eyes. An excitement of the stars was clearly visible by the way they were twinkling as the darkness was getting richer with an each passing instant. How shall I define such moment and crypt my words for you to interpret the significance of our being? Meanwhile, I forgot to ask you, were you in certain competition with the moon or it was just another face of you?

Writing to you won’t mature my words to a level of your charm and attitude. Hence, to understand you a bit more I yesterday asked my friend to come with me to see you. She brushed off my meeting by stating, “Let not your affair be public” [followed by a smile]. I paused, didn’t reply, but back in my mind, I was thinking that every day you are being kissed by many and praised by countless then how shall my love be a secrecy? O’ Dear Nature when will you reply?

Love!
(Since ages)
Amreen Naqash!

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~A.N

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ONE LAST TIME

The veil that kept hanging between two,

Burnt on just one sight.

To dust it was lost forever,

While in an inward eye-

droplets still float to extinguish the fire.

Running through hurricane of the feelings,

A voice broke in a clumsy fashion!

“Neither an inheritance of love it was,

 Nor it belonged to a fashion of modern living?

 Then why I believe you to be a dearest,

 But find you far from even being a friend?”

 

Watching a step of mine tendering backward,

Like the last seasonal snow snuggling in the soil.

Exerting hard to scroll up a voice from the chest,

“Harshly I can’t even think of sharing a word,

Swiftly, like an autumn struck leaf falling to the ground-

 Such choice has been nailed out far before,

To questions:

  I would have shared desserts for calming you,

       and explaining true,

But the choice is none!

For answers I can just be lulled and share a comfort,

For I know to both we are the dearest and I bet that is so true.”

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~A.N

“Take Me Home….”

Like the sunlight waking up from the dark,
Forgetting all flaws of the past,
Nurturing a day in the lap of the spring flowers,
Take me home and settle me same.

Like the shades of the supper time,
Birds rushing to fill thy crops and collect the grains,
Tired! Still too young to feed thee home,
Take me home and settle me same.

Like the moonlight settling in the dark,
Making promise of a beautiful time,
Cuddlng in a twinkle of the stars,
Take me home and settle me same.

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~A.N

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The Prophecy of the Childhood.

The alluring blossom time,

Reminiscence for the mature nights.

The locale friends –

School time greetings and giggling on secret meetings.

The evening visits –

Flying kites and racing old cycle tyres.

Euphonious trilling of the rhymes,

Echoing in the streets and waking up the oldies at times.

The grannies running after,

And the children jumping in laughter.

A promise of the memorable time,

With an innocence on ride.

Playing with the virgin snowflakes,

Warming hands with the cold lakes.

Burning face in the fields,

Fighting on runs and betting on spinning blades.

Art of believing the life under shades grey,

Covering miles together making new pathways.

Those childhood games and the peerless smiles,

Forbidden stories of the ostensible modern lives.

The Prophecy of the Childhood~A.N

Two Friends One Soul

A feather floating over the ripples of the water,

Lonely wave carrying it through the currents of the time,

Smile peeping and the tears hiding,

Old stains left unwashed,

Sweat still vacillating,

Over the broken threads of the two lives,

Alas! A soul of the two parted in the garden,

A place where happiness was shared together.

Roses collected dried in the hands,

Though thorns still enough of wild,

To break the skin and ooze the pain,

Yet they had hoped to unite,

Break the chains of compulsion,

And imbibe,

The purity of their youthful love,

And drink the cup serving a friendship wine,

To stay hallucinated for the entire life.

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~A.N

P.S: This is for my best of the best friend, my sister “Andleeb

My world is too small, little joys and the more often guests as in pain, to share and in that you are the most important person ( I believe you know that, Do you?).

“O’ My Beloved Grandma”

The colour of my walls is yet to fade,

Your sweat is still condensing by,

It makes me feel your presence this night.

The glare in your eyes,

The promise to support every time,

At their youthful age all that died.

And alone in this crazy world,

You left me to think of life.

Though I do live, I do smile,

Many a times I do forget,

You aren’t anymore among the alive.

Just to let you believe,

I am the brave girl whom you knew,

With you, who used to sleep.

Today I leaned back on my couch,

Your last words and the blessing of no count,

Where blooming in my mind,

Like the lonely moon in the dark sky.

To which I still try to gaze for the time long,

People say to stars now you belong

And I try enough to believe this myth.

Though I do remember your words,

Good people take steps to the paradise,

But you forgot to tell me,

How I can find,

The one lost for the entire life.

Remember? The garden butterflies,

Red, Purple, Yellow and others with stripes

I still try to get near and hold them,

They do still flutter their wings,

And take the flight too high,

But now no one screams for the safety of your child.

Unlike you and that old time.

For an epoch I hold a complaint,

Dreams! There even you don’t glide now,

I pray every night,

For one glimpse of your sight,

“To the disappointment”, I meet at dawn,

But then I still hold a hope,

Of meeting you at the shore of an another night,

Where you will rise from the pious waves,

And the richness of your love,

Will envelope me,

And hold me forever in your beautiful,

Wrinkled eyes.

Mothers hand

 ~A.N

P.S :  I am never able to write my heart out when it is all about my “Boba ji”