voice has created a strange stupor, a silence that is calm, but also feels
incomplete. Fading light of the day has entered my room through the window; I
can now see my thoughts floating in the air, at times like a cloud of tiny
particles as if smoke, undulated, doing a sinuous dance of rise and fall. Her
pictures are all over my desk, every glance makes more ripples… my essence feels
More than ever I can say now… that my dream of ‘us’ is rooted most in
my admiration for you. To think of you, is to think of love, but tonight I wish
to disengage this bond… bring hope and future and thoughts and emotions and
every single desire of my avid being to the periphery.
Tonight it is about you and no one else. Not even me, or us. Someone
awe inspiring even before love conquered like this. An inherent disciple of
Rumi, a soul so untainted… devotion so intact, making poetry of ordinary
living. Delightful like a child, affectionate like a mother, a friend like no
other, a lover so refined… distilling, crystallizing every form of expression, sometimes
passionate as if fire from within, but also subtle as if a gentle breeze… a
book I can read all night, and every night of my residual presence, a poetry I already
recite, often unknowingly to every person I meet… a song I can sing endlessly,
without ever stopping… even once.
Have you ever noticed how talking to you all night, brightens up my
day. What is, if not this radiance, that ecstasy Sufi talks about?
My incomplete, incoherent, and restless self every so often, like all
those, begins to trample you I know. I have my own share of broken dreams, a
baggage full of abandoned emotions. I am sorry for all every single of those
moments when I hurt you, made you feel less beautiful.
But know, that you will be loved. The way you want to. The way you