The Increasing Entropy

I was the tree.
Alone but strong,
I thought I would always be.

But none may defy
nature’s law of ageing and decay,
through the dance of time passing by.

The universe’s way of communication.
The constant increase of entropy,
towards the inevitable end-station.

All those promises, all those dreams.
Made only to be broken,
tearing life at its seams.

Bulleh Shah’s Reflections

You read and read and master knowledge.
But you never read your inner self.

You run to enter temple and mosque.
But you never entered your heart.

Every day you fight the devil.
But you never fought your own desire.

Bulleh Shah, don’t reach to grab what’s in the sky.
When you havn’t even managed to grab what’s inside your own soul.

When You Were Loved

When every dream
has turned to dust,
and your highest hopes
no longer soar.

When places you
once yearned to see,
grow further away
on distant shores.

When every night
you close your eyes,
and long inside
for something more.

Remember this
and only this,
if nothing else
you can recall—

There was a life
a girl once led,
where you were loved
the most of all.

– Text from “When”,  in Lullabies, by Lang Leav

I am Alone

There was a world far away, in which you and I lived.
Walking on the paths of our dreams, I said to you,
I admit, I am in love. If this is not love, what is it?

I am alone, I am alone, I am alone. Without you,
I am alone

Your innocence, your laughter. I miss your simplicity.
In my eyes, in my breaths. You are in my heart, in its beat

Our togetherness lasted centuries.
If you are not here, my heart is lonely.

Why did get upset with me, what was my mistake?
You left my world barren, all your promises were lies.

I am alone, I am alone, I am alone. Without you,
I am alone

I am alone, I am alone, I am alone. Without you,
I am alone

(Original in urdu by Raeth from their album Raeth)

Sunday Blues

The last time I visited this place, was fourteen years ago, almost to the date. Standing here by the edge of the river again, nothing seems to have changed. The trees, the rocks, the water, even the shrubs, they all look the same. The sound of running water and the wind rustling the leaves. The chill of the autumn air on a clear Sunday afternoon. The spruces standing guard along the far side of the river. It all seems exactly how it was, all those years ago, just like yesterday.

Fourteen long years of my life. So much has happened, and so many things have changed. Relocations domestic and abroad, children growing up, me getting older. Sadness, happiness, and sadness. High ambitions, hard work, and lucky accomplishments. Battles fought and victories celebrated. Disappointments small and big. Contentment, and realizations of the realities of life. Some people leaving, some entering, and then leaving again. Increasing distances between hearts as well as minds. Long awaited hellos, and sad goodbyes across vast oceans and layers upon layers of space and time.

It is strange, almost unreal, to think that fourteen years have passed. For me, it feels like a lifetime. For the river, it must be like the time it takes a tear to roll down a cheek. For the wind, a whisper in its ear. The trees have grown older, but all these years are but a short moment in their lifetime of never ending cycles of the seasons. For the rocks, I am not sure it would even register on their clock, as it must be a speck of time in their eternal life among the stars.

Standing by the water, reflecting, contemplating the passing of time, I realize that life will move on, and continue to change. It is inevitable. A fact. Until that last big change. Until then, it seems, I will keep my Sunday blues.

Sad Things

Why do you write sad things? he asked. When I am here, when I love you.

Because someday, in one way or another, you will be taken from me or I you. It is inevitable. But please understand; from the moment I met you, I stopped writing for the past. I no longer write for the present. When I write sad things, I am writing for the future.

– Text from Lullabies, by Lang Leav

Losing You

I used to think I couldn’t go a day without your smile. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back.

Then, that day arrived and it was so damn hard but the next was harder. I knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and I wasn’t going to be okay for a very long time.

Because losing someone isn’t an occasion or an event. It doesn’t just happen once. It happens over and over again.

– Memories, by Lang Leav

Winter’s Sunset

There’s something wonderfully sad about a winter’s sunset.
It deadens the pain, the melancholy of regret.

A fleeting moment of calm surrender.
And emphemeral beauty.

Captured in an instant.
Forever preserved.

In the vast darkness of my heart.
A tiny light deserved

Your Hand in My Hands

Your Hand in My Hands

When your hand is in my hands,
when my words are in your words,
we could get lost just walking like that.

When your breath is in my breath,
and solitude is close to us,
I put my head on your shoulder and fall asleep.

I wake up in your love,
and win by losing to you.
When you get upset, I sing to conciliate you.

My breath is complete with you,
without you there is no fulfillment.
You are my love, with you the season turns to spring.
When you are here I am at peace,
and when you are not, I despair.

My love, just tell me what more to say to you, what do you want to hear?
Everything could keep going on like this,
we keep meeting this way,
but this will only happen when you’re here.
When you’re here.

(Original in urdu by Ali Zafar from his Album Masti)