ZARA M.

Flowers, flowers, everywhere; moving right, petals; sliding left, petals. Crowds of people, faces weary. I hear the people, loving words for me, But all I can offer is the silence of me. I witness the love pouring from them;  Where was it all when I needed a single gem? Loud voices calling out my name;  I wonder why nothing feels the same... Seeing them gather, I ponder:  Why did they wait until I could hear no longer?  As things move forward,  I struggle to make a movement,  And I realise,  It was my funeral.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Muffin Reading Thomas Hardy today, I found myself thinking of you. You talked about him a lot to me. Though I have always loved the classics, I had not experienced his world; always knew your taste is well.  Diving deep into a good literature with a cup of coffee beside me, I found you again between the pages. Every word you spoke resonates with me in a way it had never before, and my mind paints a clear sky of you. Feeling your presence beside me, and your smile upon me, my heart asks the heavens for nothing but your reality, for a day when we could sit together and discuss the variations of literature we so dearly adore.  I found Hardy's writing solaceful, slow-paced, immersive, expressive and beautifully atmospheric. I find a quietness within his words that does not rush the reader, but persuades the one to linger a little longer. Similar, I found in Henry David Thoreau's Walden , so smooth, slow, and filled with nature. Every page seems to have a weight o...

Sweetheart, do not make the others wait for ages;  Things grow weary, and taste changes. By the time you realise the love of others, The world grows sore, and words remain on pages. Affection and love are the rare-earth diamonds; Those who fail to cherish are left with silence.   My heart holds the affection a thousand skies carry;  None is treasured, so they are quietly buried. The silver of stars shed with its own timings;  Pearls scatter, and fate keeps rewriting.  Grasp the reality before it is too late;  Love stays, but the universe does not wait.   ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, A dense forest of trees, greenery, and mountains soothes me as you do. Sending you words from the mountains, it is beyond telling how tranquil the atmosphere has become with ink, paper, you, and coffee.  My admiration for silence has deepened with you, as all you have to offer me is silence. Nature's silence resembles yours; I have become fluent in interpreting what nature and you ask of me. Perhaps that is why I have stopped fearing silence, because it is the way in which both nature and you speak to me, and I have gradually learned to listen. Listening has become my favourite hobby because it includes you.  Until the next, ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Strawberry  The harsh realities of life are often unsustainable, yet when reality strikes, acceptance quietly follows. Leaving it all behind, I find myself living in strawberry fields, where it is only you and me, plucking beautiful red berries fresh from the garden, admiring the little hearts adorned with emerald crowns and tiny golden jewels resting upon them. Their tangy sweetness lingers upon my tongue for long, just as the memory of harvesting the blush that summer had grown lingers within me. My mind finds ease in the thought of you, in the thought of us, living the finest summers, wandering through the gardens and gathering the crimsons.  The reality seems to be fading into the image of us harvesting fruit, and us, side by side in the garden. Until strawberries turn yellow, Bye. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Peach Hello again. The daily chores are literally getting tougher with time. Ups and downs come, and it is the beauty of life to keep smiling even when it is at its lowest. Seeing today the golden weight of late summer, peach-laden tress, I felt these little suns resembled the reddish-golden one in the sky just before it rises. They looked as soft, delicate, and lovely as you. A thought crossed my mind that, for the first time, I had come to see you in something other than the sun: peach orchards.  August, carrying warm golden light and the colourful sweetness of the season, mirrors my inner world. Carrying you within me in a season of sun-kissed peaches is what I consider a luxury.  Until the peach tress bear fruit. Bye.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Last night, my heart met you where reality no longer could. I dreamed about you. There were two people, but all I remember is that one of them was you. Sitting in my place, you came in pursuit of me, but a frigid demeanor was visible on my side.  It is completely beyond my reason that, under the grey sky and cold breeze, why I refused to leave? A heart that held sway over me for quite such a time no longer drew me towards itself.  It is often said to my ears that, in order to maintain positivity, one must embrace the contrary of a dream with an upbeat spirit to forestall the gloomy radiations.  I was on cloud nine as it was you who walked in my direction, but dissolved into silence at the air of indifference that I witnessed. Though on my part warmth seemed withdrawn, but it was raw and distressing.     If fate is kind, reality will be warmer and gentle.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Sugar and Sunshine My heart smiles as it hears your name. Sitting alone today in pleasant weather with my two constants: you and black coffee, I find myself thinking about how destiny first brings people together and then pulls them in a hundred different directions. I believe time is everything. Perhaps our time was written to be short, but memorable.  You cross my mind so often; with each bite of my cinnamon roll, it is thought of you I am swallowing. And I have heard that whatever you think of while eating finds a way of manifesting.   The evening is serene today, your absence is what I feel the most. My heart has been quietly calling for you. But then I remember that our caramel conversations are always there, and I continue sending these words your way. Until the coffee gets cold, Bye.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, There is a Japanese saying: Cold tea and cold rice are bearable, but cold looks and cold words are not.  The same is what   I firmly believe. Pure hearts deserve the purest form of love but if it remains distant, I am convinced that   letting go is kinder than carrying what was never ours to endure. A time comes when stars cease to shine, flowers wither, and even the brightest mornings surrender to dusk. Writing today reminds me of all the letters I have burdened my heart with over the years; I could not allow myself to abandon the thoughts, even when they lowered my sense of worth. I remember one night when the moon seemed to whisper to me  after witnessing my thousand restless nights to surrender to fate, and loosen my grip on what was already beyond my reach.  With the last bite of my cheesecake, it all comes down to this: sometimes, bitter words and vacant stares, though unintentional, reach the deepest corners of the heart, where healing ta...