ZARA M.

For Mala who stayed through every season. You are a sunflower  I have always loved,  My eternal companion,  a bond time never moved. You have hung around,  far longer than I ever found. Always stood, always listened, never judged, never withered.  You have witnessed  me becoming ashes  gathering cinders,  and leaving me resurrected. All the dark paths I have traversed, it was you beside me, when the world felt reversed. No one could gather the pieces I had become;  it was you who made me whole, one by one. Every time I came undone, I found you when I had none. You comforted me like a sparrow sheltering its chick, and I became all wings.     ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Once the stars finally align, once the moon slips into blue, and once the extraordinary happens, perhaps the universe finally softens for us, too. Or maybe, we simply become accustomed to separation with time.  Swinging between acceptance and refusal, anger and peace, hope and hopelessness; life feels heavy on the heart. Indeterminacy prevails, but every reddish-golden sunrise reminds me of prettiness the world offers to cherish. Though, I have always sought to admire it together, there is one thing I am certain of: we are both admiring the beauty of nature, from our separate corners of the world.    Perhaps, the world keeps giving us the same sunsets, only in different skies. ~Zara M.

When the calamities learn my way,  and inundation keeps drifting into my orbit,  I remain devoted to the hopes of a day where things reshape, blessings shower,  and the soul, after all its wandering, flowers.   Yet darkness possesses power,  holding back what is purer.  Swaying over dreams,  leaving the soul obscure yet even in shadow, something gleams, a quiet light that time redeems. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Watching the half moon today beneath the dark sky reminds me of you. It also reminds me that standing with valour in halfness is charming too. Courage, though, is required at every pace of life, but eventually you receive what was written for you.  Today, carrying a lot in my heart, recalling every word you ever uttered to me, and searching you in every person feels so distressing. We often have to live with what we never wanted to live without: you are one of them.  The sky notices how overwhelmed I am today, emotionally drained; it is unable to call you back, but the version of you that was fond of me is greatly sought by me.  The stars witnessing me reminiscing about what you could not keep, not complaining, but recollecting with cherries of you.   ~Zara M.

By profession, I have learned to observe the world. I watch geopolitics thousands of miles away, wars unfolding in places I may never see, the strategies that precede them, the calculations that sustain them, and the casualties that remain after them. I study nuclear proliferation and doctrines capable of shaping the lives of millions. I follow the day-to-day movement of an arms race, the language of deterrence, the posture of states, and the intelligence contained not merely in what is reported, but in what remains unsaid. I have learned that sometimes silence carries more information than a statement. My days are spent trying to understand international relations and security: why states behave as they do, what they fear, what they desire, what they conceal, and what they are willing to sacrifice in pursuit of what they call national interest. I watch borders become tense, alliances shift, old rivalries acquire new meanings, and familiar certainties slowly disappear. The world I stud...

The heart endures beyond the threshold of pain, aching for what transcends the horizons of existence. It keeps smothering, further, further until murkiness begins to feel like home.  And if one's fate has to lodge where twilight rests, perhaps even darkness becomes familiar.   And should the light forget the way it came, the heart would not remember it was owed one. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, As it has always made to our ears that love has no language. It is, itself, a language that communicates through several channels unknown to the mediocre. But as the world says, French is the language of romance; it encloses emotions and depths of devotion. I wanted to write you in French, something beyond my native language, yet still a part of my emotional currency.  Mon cœur bat pour toi. Ju sius affectueux pour toi.  Ju sius absorbée par toi.  Jéspere que tu comprends mes sentiment.  Jéspere que les étoiles s'alignent.    This was something I desired to personally write to you in other than English. Perhaps there is something beautiful about choosing unfamiliar words for feelings that are already so familiar to the heart. A different language makes the same emotion feel newly discovered. I will write you in every language I can find, until words themselves become insufficient, and then perhaps I will write to you in the language that needs n...

Dear Heart,  As Mahmoud Darwish writes, "We suffer from an incurable malady: Hope," I believe it is yet a small ray of light in a world where gloominess sways over. Though hope keeps a person in limbo but cynicism and melancholy are far drier and more desolate, causing nothing more than grief and tribulation.  With the passage of time and through philosophical reading, I have learnt to find meaning in suffering, and that suffering is hope. The buoyancy to believe that life can take recantation at any moment provides a unique level of comfort and shuns much of the distress of life.  I still hold onto this quiet faith that light is here, and I need only raise my soul high enough to see it. Your permanent absence is still witnessed with strong faith; though the heaviness intensifies at times, grace remains poised. I dream of my beacon turning into reality, one day.     ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  The grace of September has brought mixed certainty; the golden haze and unfinished goodbyes are all that linger. Changing skies, fading summers, and approaching autumn fetch new hopes, as the old leaves will fall, but new ones will arise.  The gentle decay of us, though tormenting, awakens a dream of afterlife, where the reality of you might not be evasive but a beautiful part of life.  Standing at a bridge between suffering and aspiration; I anticipate the cadence of modern existence with an endless shadow and emotion of you, and the eternal realm with the reality of you.  With the ache of change,  Bye.     ~Zara M.