ZARA M.

Dear Heart,  Life gets busy at times, but I believe that what you love the most, you make time for. I am glad to know that I always manage to write to you about my days, no matter how enervated I feel after a long, rough day.  I don't mean this as an indirect reproach, but what is vital to the heart, we keep dear to us, even when we have an extremely busy schedule or just aren't in the mood to talk. But priorities differ from individual to individual.  Thinking about you today, beneath a sunny October sky and its shifting shades, it is good to remember that I do not forget to write to you. Besides, how can I leave something that brings me comfort: writing, and you.  The oranges will be here soon, and my heart yearns to see you here, too, for you are to me what an orange is to a person in winter.     Until then, I shall keep a little warmth aside for you, the way October keeps its last oranges. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  You are dearly cherished like, like a hot cocoa on a cold winter night. You are extra chocolate in my cup. Writing to you makes me forget about all the worries that exist. I cannot put into words how much comfort I find in penning words to you. It is to me what honey is to bees.  Sending a little piece of my heart your way; you are a tender part of my soul, and a sticky toffee pudding that delights me every time, in every age.  I yearn to find you in each lifetime, just as amazing as you are today.  Bye.     ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  My soft poetry of sweets Life teaches us so much, and it prepares us to live. Today, looking back at time, I realize how much I have learnt in life. All the lessons have not gone in vain. They have taught me something and, little by little, made me whole.  I feel myself becoming concrete, with diminished fragility. The woman I was and the woman I have become had a colossal bridge to cross. I am glad I have come so far, to where my personality has learnt where to be kind and soft, and where to be hard.  Anyhow, the hush of winter-winds and your tender little treats are all treasures to my heart.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Though the miseries of life are endless, so are its blessings. If we keep looking at our tribulations, the universe will mirror the same energy, and the happiness will become baffling and intangible. It is always in our hands to choose either happiness or suffering.  Today, walking alone along the wet paths covered with fallen leaves, I was reminded that joy can be found in simplest things. One can feel blissful watching the leaves fall and change colours, seeing the sky shift from blue to pink, red, and orange, the dawn fade into dust, and seeing those same trees that once bore cherries now standing fruitless, yet holding the hope of bearing cherries again when the time is right. Contentment is a choice not an opportunity served on a plate. If one decides to be elated no matter what, the universe will go to every end to create circumstances that bring felicity.  Watching the shaded leaves falling is as soothing as the hope that new ones will arrive when the ...

Dear Heart,  Marshmallow As Halloween month is here, with cold nights and warm days, bright sunlight and endless heavy nights, the sacred weight of my devotion is deepening to the core. I speak to you with my soul, and my heart overwhelms at night in front of the moon. The stars witness the watery bulbs in my eyes that resist, to the core, coming out.  You are still a marshmallow in my hot chocolate. Each sip still tastes like you. These nights, stretched into eternity, and the winds dancing, bringing vibrant night colours to the sky, all recall you.  A mug of hot chocolate on this night, and the memories of what I once considered to be true, are all I am left with. Watching the hours swallowed by darkness and the shining stars, I leave a small door open for hope that one day, the chocolate will be smoothly melted, with extra marshmallows and cream on the top.    Until then, I will keep one marshmallow aside for you.    ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, Every memory of you is still fresh, just like fresh strawberries: sour, sweet, and delicate. Though your existence left ages ago, you could not leave my heart or perhaps my heart decided to keep you the way you were, the way it all was.  Some stories do not have a proper ending, but I feel an excessive pride in having lived a real story, free from all the bogus. Moments could not kept longer, but at least, they were real, or probably, I considered them real.  Each minute I have a thought of you, it is some nice strawberries I feel like plucking straight from the gardens and enjoying.  Till the strawberries keep harvesting,  Bye.    ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, My Sky Sky is really wide and in possession of stars, clouds, rainbows, and even birds. Every time I see you, I find my sky in you. You are a creature without edges, vivacious, and spirited, and I am still unlearned in existing without your thoughts.  One thing that goes beyond my comprehension is how the heart always clings to what it is incapable of grasping. My heart is tremendously aware of the expanse of you , still nesting in the architecture of smoke, still harbouring a hope that our souls will recognize each other in eternity.  With the last marshmallow from my jar, I leave a little sweetness in your name.      ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  October's sunlight, with its brightness and warmth, and its cold, breezy nights are all a blend of you. At times, you draw me close; at times, you turn to winter. It is what this month exactly offers. Your reflection is what I have kept witnessing throughout the months, but very few of them ever contained the reality of you.  The light of October, the falling leaves of autumn, along with the hot chocolate, remind me of the colours and aura of you. Even resistance has lost its trace over me, as my heart and body have decided to move with an absence that never quite leaves.  Today's hot chocolate is in your name.  Bye.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, Pumpkin October is here: the fall season, crisp leaves, and winter waiting just around the corner. I cannot quite find the right words when it comes to unraveling autumn and the "ber" months. If I tell you honestly, the beauty of this season, its colours, and the aura of these months, intertwined with the memories of you, are all breathtaking.  Each morning, watching the rain-soaked leaves shimmer in the quiet aftermath of the storm, beneath the faded sunlight, my coffee calls your name. I exert myself beyond measure to conceal your thoughts, but your imprints on my soul have claimed a life of their own.  Sorrows aside, I find pleasures in your thoughts alongside my cup of coffee and bites of croissant. You are nearer than you have ever been.   Perhaps that is the strange mercy of memory; it keeps what time takes away, and makes the absent feel almost within reach. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, A farewell to September it is. A last night of a month that gave me so much: you, tenderness, heartsickness, and nostalgia at times.  As your presence had lingered with me throughout the months, in September, I felt no difference. Every leaf talked about you, the moon asked about you. The sunshine gave your reflection, clouds reminded of you, and the rainbows displayed the very features you embody.  A little sparrow on my window still alluded to you, and remained my companion as I spoke of you. Every book I read gave me thrills of you, and the shivers that ran through my body every time your name crossed my mind.    Until September comes back with you, Bye. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Today, it is a cold breeze with light rain. Dancing trees and dark clouds; winter has almost started. As the peak months of July and August have passed, the peak wintery months are now ready to arrive in full swing.  I believe that this winter is going to be special, with you in my mind and extra fudge by my side. My admiration for you beats words and every dreamy confections. I consider you a delicate, edible luxury, though out of my reach, you are too valuable not to keep close to my little heart.  Sending you today bundles of sugar-kissed pleasures, while I watch the rain pouring and find calmness in its little drops and icy whispers. Bye.     ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Each time I drop words on paper for you, it fills my heart with flowers: lilies, roses, Arabian jasmine, and all those with ethereal fragrance. An honest sneak peek: they remind me of your fragrance; it carries something of yours: flowery, woody, and with an endless touch of vanilla.  Before you, my soul had been fond of flowers, but after you, it admires only one: you. You are a floweret of my garden and a whole posy for me, enough for a lifetime.  Today's clouds make my heart hanker for your presence. Though I am making peace with your absence, you are sorely needed for my heart.    ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, There are some names we speak aloud, and there are names we keep quietly tucked away in the deepest chambers of our hearts. Dostoevsky wrote the name of his beloved 138 times, and not once his own name. I have not mentioned yours a single time. But every time, I have mentioned mine. The world knows my beloved only through the cute nicknames I have given him; the name written in the world’s records has never crossed my lips. But the sun knows. The moon and the stars know. The rainbows and the skies, the flowers and the trees, all are aware that it is you. Hoping for the day when you, too, know that it is you. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Peaches Waking up to your name blesses my whole day, as it is like a prayer that graces my life with life. As time passes, the line grows blurred between whether it is you in reality or you in my imagination. Whatever it is that I am experiencing, I am joyous to love your presence, even the thought of your presence.  My sun rises with you, and it sets with you. With the lapse of time, my universe has started to rise and set with you.  As long as the stars keep brightening the skies, I will keep waking up to the prayer of your name.  ~Zara M.

You are alive,  feel the sun, the sun-kiss; talk to the moon, let it turn blue; watch shades of sunsets, let them seep into you. You are alive, feel the air filling your lungs, look upon the flowers growing young; hear the melodies the birds have sung. You are alive, visit dense forests, praise nature; linger over rainbows, bask in treasure; sit under the skies, settle your pleasures. You are alive now, cherish the blessings,  and settle the distressing. You will not forever be young; nor will life forever remain. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Cocoa & Comfort I read somewhere today that "love, it is mad and holy, like Dostoevsky." I feel like I am travelling the same road. I feel madness and holiness both at the same time. Writing to you out of frenzied emotion and devoting my entire being to you as though you are sacrosanct.  Reading White Nights years back makes sense to me now. The dreamer was perhaps loving in his subconsciousness, no reality of Nastenka existed but his love was purer than the pure, and the heartbreak was born from loving something that could never fully belong to him.  Tasting the warmth of cocoa reminds me the warmth your sweetest soul always extended towards me. I consecrate my heart to you, I worship you with the whole of my being, and write to you like it is scared.  I have often heard that love itself is a religion; I am experiencing it. If love is a religion, then perhaps I have found my faith in you, and I do not know how to stop believing.    ...

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.

Sometimes we humans are not aware what God is protecting us from by not giving us what we desire the most. Staring at the sky today, watching the stars align and de-align, I realized, our stars work much the same way. At times, they collide with those that do not work in our favour, yet we, enticed by them leave no avenue unexplored, praying for them to align. And in the process, we exhaust ourselves, physically, mentally and sometimes even spiritually.   Though each of our step plays a role in deciding our destiny, not everything we pursue is meant to become ours. Perhaps some doors remain closed not because we are unworthy of what lies behind them, but because there is something beyond them that we cannot yet see. Maybe, sometimes, what feels like a denial is simply another form of protection. ~Zara M.

We have a devotion beyond time, a longing that outlives time.  We shall keep one another in our hearts  and never make it known to the world.   Even if we lie to each other,  the eyes will secretly tell the truth.   Though time may stand against us,  eternity shall belong to us. ~Zara M.

When fate goes cruel and emotions go high, Just keep staring at the show and do not let yourself sigh.  Ebb and flow is what makes life intriguing,  Peaks and valleys are merely seasons renewing. If at times you feel blue,  Recall how life has rewarded you with a view. If the heart hungers to conjure,  Let old memories wander yonder. Or if the anguish swells, Letting go is the terminal choice that dwells.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, The cave I always feared to enter has dragged me towards it. Destiny, at times, is very cruel, but the feeling that comforts me a bit is that the moon and the stars, along with the sun and its shine, the sky wanderers, heavenly shades, and the trees of forests, have all witnessed my tenderness for you.  The inmost heart has befriended every tiniest creature of nature and now, the living world knows how amazing you are. I tend to believe that fate turns the moment it sees two hearts craving each other's presence. We have become a target of that mercilessness.  I have not abandoned you; a piece of my heart still belongs to you, but the heartlessness of foreordination has shattered me into pieces; it has fractured my very soul.  Drinking cups of coffee and writing is my only escape left.  My dawns rise with one colour missing, and my pen pines to writing your name.  Tonight, the weight has returned once again.      ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  The flowers I collected in your memory have been dried with the lapse of time, but the recollection of those moments has ceased to take flight.  The more sunrises I collect in the moments when I yearn for your presence, the more each sunset brings nothing but the despair of ever seeing you return.  Each sip of morning tea gives me the hope that you are closer than close, and with every last sip, it all feels in vain. Being human is not easy, no matter how much you prefer the pink lens; blue takes over you. Trying to see the rose in every shade you have left behind. Bye. ~Zara M.

Sickness of memories and your irreversible departure, here the soul lies, with infinite tortures.  As a final goodbye could not become woven into fate,  Echoes have taken shape that still navigate. The heart in love does not require alignment with terms, but as emotions become threads, the heart still yearns. Perhaps some departures are never meant to end, For memories remain where broken moments bend. And if fate has forbidden our paths to meet again, I shall carry what remains through joy, through pain. ~Zara M.

Birds in the skies beheld my eyes that carry you inside. The colours scattered everywhere reflected you. The clouds twirling and the winds whispering,  Even the winged souls were singing of you.   Little pilgrims know my secrets.  The winds pester me with the letters of your name. Rainbows painted the heavens with your memory, and I, with heavenly wanderers,  found delight in every trace of you.    ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  At times a thought crosses my mind: what if we did not have nature to soothe us? Life would have become weary. It already is; there are phases that strike us so hard that we freeze to death. But have you ever noticed how the sky changes its pretty colors? It does not remain blue all the time.  Nights turn into light; the moonlight fades, replaced by the golden light of the sun. It tells us that no situation lasts forever; each phase eventually comes to an end.  Sitting in a fresh air today, with each sip of my coffee, I recall how pleasant the world truly is, and how differently we perceive it.  Birds flying high in the skies, watching them abates my anxieties about life. We human have numerous blessings that we often take for granted, while other species, with whatever they have, see to be happy creatures.  With every passing shade of the sky, it is you, in my heart, where you fly. Bye.      ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,   As Thomas Hardy says, “ I shall do one thing in this life - one thing certain - that is, love you, and long for you, and keep wanting you till I die, ”  It comforts me to believe that letting your life keep revolving around something you deeply want does not lessen you; it elevates you.  I have come to believe that when you keep feeding your desires, they manifest into reality and make reality gentler to live with. As I want you, I wish to keep longing for you to calm my soul. I shall continue my path, even if longing remains my only companion, along with solitude, my dear coffee and a slice of fudge. With so much beside me, I cannot bring myself to believe that desolation can take me. ~Zara M.

Rain outside, rain inside.  The weather outside and the weather of my heart are on the same side. The grief the skies have is the grief my soul has. Together we sink into the same morass. A sweet intoxication as the droplets fall. A kind of solace a weary soul would call.  Not I the one weeping alone,  The heavens lament the same old moan.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  O nce in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life, we find a companion to talk to.   Perhaps that is what beautifies life, finding the extraordinary in the ordinary is all the beauty. As the saying goes, once in a while the moon turns blue; it occurs that sometimes a sordid turn takes over life, and a fairy tale comes out of it.  Fairy tales do not always arrive dressed as fairy tales. Sometimes they come disguised as little sparrows at our windows. A few days back, I encountered a sparrow at my window; she often visits me, and I tell her about you. I told her about my ordinary life story. She listened quietly, tilted her little head, and then flew away. I wonder if she carried a little of you with her, or a little of me to you.  Maybe she will come again tomorrow. I still have so much about you left to tell her. ~Zara M.

The sweetness of melancholy is the addiction you carry, though it deepens the grief yet persists to the very core. It fills the eyes and makes the heart ache,  but you will find none that lightens or softens the ache. Many will come and go, but unconcerned to heal the wound. You are your own remedy, your own healer, your own refuge.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Sunbeam Expectations often choose paths where landslides are inevitable. Setting them aside and continuing through life is the mark of a peaceful and graceful soul.  Though my sun rises with you and sets with your name, I pay little attention to the expectations I might have of you. To me, you are a free bird: a Phoenix. You are immortal to me. It is said that if a writer encapsulates your beauty, you become immortal; and so you are to me: never truly gone, though absent, eternal in being. One last whisper: the shades of sunrise still lead me back to you.   Until September shines, ~Zara M.

The jewel you had was a ruby. Its expensiveness and fine edges were breathtaking and jaw-dropping.. Its rarity and quiet brilliance made it magnificent.  Marble and river gravels, where the ruby was found, kept it for long, endured its redness, and saved it from damage. Yet, the one who found it damaged it to the core and lost it.  The jewel was a vibrant red colour, not like zircon, found and afforded by everyone.  You lost the gem. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, It seems like I am writing you after ages. Though it has just been quite some time, it seems like decades have passed since I last talked to you.  Things have become a little cluttered on my end. My two very personalities are at loggerheads with each other; I am unable to make a resolve between them. Anyway, the warmth of August has reached its pinnacle, and as it is the last day of August, a truncation in intensity is expected.  September brings new life, putting the old to rest; I am hoping for the release of what remained distressed throughout the summers, and a fresh start to what brings calm. Days of hot chocolate are at the corner, the late-night readings in a cozy milieu, and you at the back of my mind, are ushering in.  Here's to healing what once hurt, Bye.  ~Zara M.

As one door closes, several other doors open. I heard it once and believed only when I encountered it personally.  In life, several aspects emerged that led me to fortify my belief system. As I already deepened my mind training to always welcome even the undesired, I also reinforced my beliefs. It calmed my soul, made me expect less, and helped me to steer clear of disappointments.  In all sincerity, the Divine circle and the pre-ordained matter are something unfathomable, but admittedly, they are supreme. What our mind fails to comprehend at the moment often proves to be unsurpassed, as we come to know later. Divinity decides what is finest for us; we make ourselves settle for less.  Even if gloominess clouds our vision and hides from us the choices that have been made for our good, they remain good nonetheless. It is all about believing first, even before the results become visible, and when that belief is unwavering, the results can be extraordinary.   What we los...

Seeking validation and seeking value are two fundamentally different things. When you demand to be valued by others, it is because you respect yourself, your dignity, and your morals; whereas craving recognition can sometimes be tantamount to seeking attention, which may seem demanding to others. It is often said that your value does not diminish because of someone’s inability to see your worth. Yet, their inability to recognise it can still take a psychological toll on a person, particularly when they have shared a bond with you at some point. To put it rightly, valuing others shows how much at peace we are with ourselves, because when a person is constantly at war with their own self, their propensity to mistreat others rises. Empaths may try to hold it with warmth and understanding, but they, too, are human. If you do not value yourself, you cannot expect others to value you. The respect you receive from others is, in many ways, a reflection of the respect you have for yourself....

Empathy, a profound feature of human life and one of the rarest in today's species, is one of a kind that teaches a soul to commiserate with an unknown soul. It is to understand the nonvocals and try to comprehend them when bleakness is all that is in sight.  This phenomenal element costs one his mental and physical health, as it demands too much of one's prowess and unmindfulness of one's own emotions. When you keep placating people who are emotionally unavailable, you tend to move towards self- abandonment. Though being present for others is a gentle trait, sinking your own ship in trying to save theirs is not very kind to your own self.  I have seen phases where I kept standing for people even when it did hurt me, even when their aloofness caused me severe harm and I lost myself while saving others, but they passed without consequence and a slight gesture of compassion.  Being ever-present shows one's stoutness and painstaking nature for others; it is evergreen, but ...

Shots of whisky  no longer leave a lingering trace, when your name's the risky, intoxicating enough to steal all my grace. The world judges the lover, leaves unseen the impact of a beloved; however, it is the latter spellbinding the lover.   As I am accused of madness, you are the cause no one sees.  As I am beguiled,  you are the wine. Whatever I have transformed into, you awakened; turned an affection into an obsession.  You made me drunk on you, the vino bears your name; it is your eyes, it is my flame. ~Zara M.

The door to the other side.  Where wind carries blue and birds sing, I wait till comes the tide. Here oceans move freely, and the desert is faithful to its own wandering.  Skies are eternally wide, and stars shine bright. I witness nature unfolding into wonder. Flowers bloom here and leaves fall, Spring and Autumn answer the call. Heavy sunlight and cold nights,  Summer and winter align.   There opens another world, Where we sit side by side. The sky is blue, the moon alight; Petals dance in the air, and Birds paint the sky with flight.  The world forgets to speak,  And our souls dissolve into the silence through which the night speaks. ~Zara M.

Silence, though a key at times, is also something that leaves you in an abyss. When you choose silence over chaos, people misinterpret you, consider you at fault, and never know your side of the story.  A woman who lives in the world of literature prioritizes calm over messiness, but that is where things fall into a jumble. She is misread as the one who is wholly incomprehensible of reality and imperfect at making arguments. The world we are witnessing and living in is the one where silence puts you into a black hole, irreversible to return to society. No matter how arduous you try, you are always misunderstood.     Being uncommunicative and a literary aficionado costs you more than you think. I have absorbed in life that not telling your side of the story makes you a culprit, while telling it is something that makes you defensive. Deciding what to choose makes you miserable.  LIFE IS HARD AT TIMES.   ~Zara M. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, The Sturgeon Moon this August holds something of you. I have witnessed several full moons in my life up until now. There is an Indian tradition of Sahasra Chandra Darshan, where it is believed that by the time a person reaches eighty, they have witnessed a thousand full moons. More poetically, a life of eighty years is a life beneath a thousand full moons; how beautiful is that.  Seeing August's full moon today makes me wish to experience what Indians truly believe and live by the moon. And I wish to witness it under the same sky with you; though apart, but together in our hearts. Deeper still, the moon today is so exquisite, just like the soul I once witnessed, and that could not leave me since then. Today, my heart urged me to observe the moon in its quiet passage beside you. As your presence is fully ingrained into my soul, it is tremendously difficult to look at something this beautiful without finding traces of you in it.    As long as the moon shines, B...

These are the last days of August. It is often said that these are best for letting go and preparing for a change. As September draws near and autumn is about to arrive, change is at the corner; it is the change before the change. Autumn also brings the energy to release and embrace new alignments.  This week of August has brought several ebbs and flows, yet all I want to recall are the spaces it created for the new. The turbulences were real, pains were striking, but my respect for the Divine remains persistence. Acceptance overrides everything in my life. It is widely believed when you capitulate to the universe, harsh seasons begin to soft and calmness takes over.   Let August take what it must, and let September bring what it may. ~Zara M.

The August full moon is at the corner, preparing to be spilled over the terrace. The silver it drapes, the secrets it carries and the prayers it holds are deeply inviolable.  Although every phase of the moon has never turned its face against me, the full phase is highly sacrosanct for me. As I am a person who keeps belief in the stars' alignment, from the Wolf Moon of January to the Cold Moon of December, each appears with its own meaning and significance, and each moon's story and symbolism I keep intensely close to my heart.  The bond I feel with the moon and the stars is inexplicable. Each night, from Sirius and Polaris to Mizar and Alcor, these stars quietly witness the abyss of thought I keep latent, yet somehow entrust to the stars. This August, I am wistfully awaiting the full form of the Moon, not only to observe its silvery and exquisite texture but to whisper to it the tales I haul, and the prayers I hope to utter. Till the full moon arrives, Bye.    ~Zara ...

As we have always heard that time is relative; it is also not constant, it changes. Transmutation is the core element of every day's life; at one moment, there is happiness, and the other, sorrow follows. Things are transient in nature. The universe holds features that are ephemeral; nothing lasts long, whether it is joy, anguish, or grief.  Meditation teaches us to observe thoughts rather than being immersed in every thought and entertaining it. Not every thought deserves our attention and energy. I have gradually learnt several layers of lessons in life and have reached a point of understanding where I am abreast of the fact that letting go is the definitive choice, and it upholds peace.  Different phases of life sway upon me and keep pinching me to the extent that I  lose my mental stability. Through the practice of meditation, I have now grown accustomed to desensitization. For our peace of mind, it is paramount to assume a nonchalant disposition towards life, enterta...

Dear Heart,  Petal Soul I witness you blossom like a rose. Every colour rises when you smile; it seems as though flowers have folded themselves into a face: tulips, lilies, pansies, Arabian jasmine, and roses.  I am so fond of flowers and you that I find you in every petal, and every petal, in turn, leads me back to the spring your existence creates.   Seeing flower shops today, I recalled you and wondered: do flowers bloom because they once witnessed your smile, or does your smile simply bloom into flowers wherever it goes? As flowers settle into dark, they still carry the memory of daylight, just as I carry yours. ~Zara M.

It is a bright sunny day today. I usually enjoy it more when there is sunshine outside, but at times, my heart yearns for petrichor, raindrops, and grey clouds above in the sky.  Today, I find myself renewed and restored from all the thoughts that have kept tormenting me enough in the recent past; I feel fresh today. Perhaps I have commenced to accept what destiny holds for me. If I am to be honest, I find calmness in capitulating to the universe while keeping my sanity intact.  With each warm sip and a gentle golden glow, I breathe in fresh air and a promising outlook, having ceased to compel destiny and instead chosen the path of belief and acknowledgment. Take my word for it: when we cease to exert pressure on God and the universe, that is when things begin to set themselves in motion, embarking upon the path where they were always meant to be. Tranquility prevails and distress fades into oblivion.      ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  It is evening. The raindrops are constantly falling from the sky, as if it is weeping, missing its dearest. The sky is grey. It is August. This is how August evenings are: melancholic and pensive.  The atmosphere inside is as sorrowful as the skies above me. You are dearly remembered every day, but today, the heart feels nostalgic, forlorn, and homesick. It suffers bereftness, it yearns for your softness.   Until the rain carries your name away, Bye.  ~Zara M.

As oceans run dry,  It is a time to try,  As he drifts by, So do I. Things turn to boil; We let them toil. As moments pass by, Our silence replies, And fate denies. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, Some days I feel like writing an infinite number of words to you, and some days, it is just me staring at a blank page with endless emotions inside me, resisting coming out or struggling to take the shape of words. The topsy-turvy phase I am in at the moment has taken hold of me; some days I am drowning, and the other days, I am floating over the skies, swinging between depression, resistance, and elation.   I am writing to you today with extreme pain inside me, I am not aware of the condition I am going through, all I know is that something is not right in me; perhaps it is my heart.  Not a second passes when memories do not unsettle me; my heart is crushing with unknown sorrow, it may be your departure, words you could not keep or the trust I placed in you.  Tonight, coffee is reminding me more of you.   ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Not every day is a Sunday. People do not stay confident every day; misalignment occurs, and doubts dominate. The ultimate choice remains acceptance, and releasing oneself from the identity crisis that follows.  Today, with severe heaviness in my chest and head, I am dropping words onto paper. I messed up brutally at a phase in life. Since then my brain is constantly torturing me, to the point of slaughtering every fragment of peace within me.  I have always believed that perfection is overrated and almost perfect is perfect enough. But today, I bungled where I could not afford to; I am half tormented, half dead, and completely unconscious of myself, to the point of feeling as though I barely exist.  My body has stopped responding to me. I am stunned. Whatever I started my day with has left me in mental and physical torment. My very existence has already suffered several miseries recently, and today's anguish has merely added itself to an already establis...

Tonight, I am not I but you are you Whatever happens, just do not forget my presence. For as your departure unveiled  I quietly remained,  though my heart failed.  ~Zara M.

Something notable my existence has comprehended is not to keep clinging to past and to desires. Things come and go, and when you become habituated to releasing, to letting go, and to making space for the new, that is where you begin to live with freedom.    As Paulo Coelho writes, " When someone leaves, it is because someone else is about to arrive,"  unveiling the complexity of the universe: something when leaves, it makes space for something else to fill the void. That is how the universe works, and this deeply layered toil is tough for our small minds to grasp; we begin to distress over what has left, without understanding that its departure may simply be the universe making room for what is yet to come. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  As life passes, one gets to realize that we see things as we are, instead of what they actually are. Time has trained me, modified, and revitalized me. Whenever I sense negativity in something, I start looking inside myself because that is where things are wrong when outside is not right.  I am glad that such a power has taken hold of me where I can sift through what is bleak and damaging, and that is how I gained my power and peace.  Intellectuality aside, I am seeing your reflection in today's rain, and it is as soothing as softened butter melting over a morning croissant.  Until croissant gets passe, Bye.    ~Zara M.

Old books are the ones abandoned and lonely. They are the books that travel miles to reach us, having passed through several hands before finally finding their way to us. These are the ones no one owns anymore, or those deserted once they have been read. They are, in a way, homeless.  If, in life, we can ever do a small favour by giving them a good home where they are valued and cherished, nothing could be more beautiful than that.  New books are liked by all, what about the ones that were once wanted and are now left behind after being read? They are not less worthy of being read, no less admirable.  Last but not the least, a few used volumes contain notes, written for beloveds by the lovers. They provide a certain sense of comfort, a coziness in holding that book, and discovering these traces of someone else's life. Perhaps that is what makes them special: they remind us of how life circles, how things once loved find their way into other hands, and how stories con...

Dear Heart,  The rain today is calm and comforting, and it is pacifying the wounds inside me. With every sip of coffee, it is you beside me. I have not remained a great admirer of rain throughout my entire life; I had kept it at the periphery for far too long.  As time has passed, I have realized how much I have rendered peripheral; the tenderness the rain drops bestow, which is celestial in nature. Why could my heart not revere the cathartic release rain holds the ability to provide? Late but right, I have understood that nature has one more solace where my heart can breathe.  Until the rain stops,     ~Zara M.

The moment the world reaches its zenith and eternity begins,  the sky reaches its end, and anew beginning spins. I will be standing at the edge, happy to fasten the first page of a new chapter,  with you in it once again. I will meet you at the edge of time, only to begin a new with my beloved.  The world may finally come to rest, yet peace will remain  resting with us, with you, and me,  with us. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, Sunshine Watching the sunrise today, the sun revealed to me that you had spoken to him about me. I believe he is our mutual listener, listening to both you and me, knowing us all too well.  It is 5:27 am., and I woke to the thought of you, witnessing the sunrise. As the sun wrote upon the sky that you call my name, the heavens surrendered to the rhythm. My day seems to be filled with golden light beyond measure, extra chocolate in my hot chocolate, and a million bouquets of flowers.   The sun sways without restraint, and we both commemorate the morning like a grand celebration. Perhaps every sunrise knows what our hearts have yet to say. In every sunrise, yours. ~Zara M.

The season of peaches and the warmth of August  so close to you, as the atmosphere is rust. The bright sunlight, inside out,  is what my soul craves most.  The warmth of summer is the shadow you leave behind, as the presence is distant, the form is behind. I want to keep you alive, even if i shall do it through fruits, seasons, and months.  For there is you  in every fruit, every season, and every month. ~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...

Dear Dear, My Heart, My Beloved,  You are the Universe, divinely sacred.  As I gaze upon you, the stars fall before you, the seven heavens bend toward you, and none compare to you. God has given me eyes for you,  you, the beauty; me, the admirer, Together, we become the constellation that shines the brightest. Each midnight, I see us soaring through the skies,  dancing in the air and holding one another throughout the night. As the moon smiles upon us,  I tell him,  You are the one, my only one,   the one who uplifts the two of us. ~Zara M.

Looking up at the rainbow reminds me well, All of it is akin to the shades of one person beneath its spell, A heart in which I fell. The loveliness it carries and unfolds,  Is nothing but what I imagine of you. How can I not admire such grace? Time itself could never erase.  The beauty it enfolds, the tenderness it holds, Are treasures worthy of being preserved,  Just as those of my beloved.   My heart desires equal affection; Even if it remains elusive,  let there be the one in me who continues to love. Admirer I am of the elegance you behold, Waiting for the moment our story is told, You are the one I hold most dear,  Wish for several rainbows,  each revealing more of you. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Night Jasmine Speaking to you across these pages, beneath a heavy, cloud-laden night, it seems as the sky might begin to cry at any moment. It is so swollen with rain that it may burst into a thousand tears, much like my heart has been holding lately. If your thoughts keep crowding my mind, it would wander beyond the seven heavens of sanity, to a point beyond return. My eyes would burst into the earth's embrace, and I would no longer have the strength to keep myself from the mud. The nights are growing longer, just as the heaviness within my chest continues to grow. Your absence has grown heavier than the weight of a thousand glasses of whiskey emptied in a single night. Till my next shot of whiskey,  Don't worry, it is still black coffee. ⭐ Bye. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, My Cookie  I admire you more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.  Joking apart, you are my warm cookie beside my cup of black coffee, without sugar. Your sweetness is enough to make every sip sweeter than honey, leaving me more than happy to keep you within my heart and beside my soul.  The weather is changing; August has arrived, and the peak of summer is slowly fading, but not my habit of sending words your way. The leaves are changing and so is the atmosphere of my heart, leaping from the dullness of June to the love of December, and sometimes, to the blossoms of March.  Writing to you today, only to let you know that the evening breeze still whispers your name, melted marshmallows never get tired of speaking of you, and I never seem to have enough of you. Until my next,  ~Zara M.

We belong to a quieter universe: tiny, love-filled, cosmic in its aesthetics, a kind of world where life flows unnaturally,  yet stays, in a way, swinging in eternity. Our worlds obey different seasons, seasons of affection, passion, and devotion.  We keep lingering in them with obsession.  Our warmth, leaning towards the world of words,  escaping together in the written and unwritten, inebriates us beyond reason and into oblivion.   The souls we carry recognise each other, wrap around one another, and settle into forever. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Sunshine I truly long for your soulful proximity. I have grown weary of remoteness, of oceans gone dry, of twilights emptied of their soul, and of sunsets that have forgotten how to glow. In your presence, colors feel more alive than ever; with you, I feel more alive than ever.  I truly believe that if I could ever convey my silences to you, you would understand them. Every silence carries a deeper meaning within itself, one that cannot be interpreted with ease.  I want you to stay with me, even if only in dreams. Give me your tears, your joys, and stay until the other world calls one of us.  At times, I consider myself truly fortunate. I was given the art of writing, of expressing and elucidating what my heart holds, and I found you to write you. I write happily; it relaxes me. It makes me feel as though you are before my eyes, and I am simply opening my heart to you.    With all my silence, ~Zara M. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Extra Honey As July goes down, maple mornings melt into horizons. Writing to you on the last evening of highsummer, my inside grows warmer for you, while the outer goes cool, knowing my words might always  be flying in the air.  It has been months since thoughts kept scattering on paper. I lean towards relief, but apprehensions grow. There is always a sudden urge to ink details to you, creating an uneasy environment inside the core of where you reside in me.   The moments I spent where caramel kept drizzling over me, hours of sunrise with honey on toast, warm, long nectar evenings, and cookies of you are all I am moving forward with in August.  Until the bees keep making honey, Bye. ~Zara M.

I have made a home where you exist, a place where I keep you within, everything else aside,  just us,  by each other's side. Whispering featherlight words,  taking delight in playful annoyance,  all resting at the edge of our wonderful desires. Free from the worldly chaos,  pleasures in our daily cosmos, stars smiling and blessing the two us, that happiness like this never settles into dust. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  I know you wait for me to write to you; here I am again. Let me tell you today that your absence has found a way into my days; they have become immersed in you. My pages wait impatiently, wondering when will I write to you again. This is the moment I feel like having a real conversation, telling you how the hours have felt unfamiliar without you.  Words fall short whenever I am to write about a face made of quiet sunshine; when your prettiest smile widens, it awakens flower buds, and the colors it scatters all around are hard to capture in words.  I consider you the equal of a sunflower, beautiful in your own way, carrying sunshine in your pocket. I can find thousands of ways to tell you that my seasons have learned your name, my dawns rise with thoughts of you, every character in my book resembles you, and my whole world leans towards you alone.   Until the sky writes again, ~Zara M.

Love does not necessarily require sharing the quiet of the kitchen growing old over cups of tea and going over the grocery list. Time is not the same for everyone, and neither is destiny.  Seasons change, stories change,  feelings stay; the purest are often the most unfortunate. I believe the world carries an urge  to see every story through the same lens  Few stories are enveloped in silence  undeclared, yet gentle and passionate love   other than a mediocre story where love finds its home in togetherness.  Yet, they remain no less beautiful; perhaps even purer, for they continue to exist without asking life for more than the privilege of being felt. ~Zara M.

Writing in July demands patience, summer nights, tiredness of long days, and solitude. As each passing day adds more to the days in which your presence was dearly desired, I watch the sun rise again from its weariness.  Though several suns have set without you, each has risen anew, carrying hopes alongside.  Solitude usually holds a propensity for certain thoughts; for me, you are one of them. I find myself engulfed either by your memories or by your warmth. I admire every passing hour, where beautiful memories become both a part of life and the reason they continue to spiral, visionary yet soothing.  This July, solitude has experienced both the absence and the presence of someone who matters to one universe as a flower to a garden, or a leaf to autumn, small in appearance, yet precious to a tender heart.  Till the seasons keep changing,   ~Zara M.

I could tell you of my dearest visions,  the nights I woke to fears the things that always burdened my heart,  the fragile uncertainties that lingered in the dark. In you, I see what comforts me;  my soul finds companionship; my heart, torn by the quiet fears of losing essences, finds its way safely into your embraces. ...And tonight, I feel the urge to tell you about the shadows I encounter, the places and the hearts I have to let go to shelter, the soul unsettled and the eclipse I dread,  need to be spoken before I am dead.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  My Cozy Cup Witnessing the sun rise and go down, all my mind is enveloped by thoughts of you. Holding a cup of coffee, my favorite literature, and thoughts of you, I cannot imagine a life more beautiful than this trio. My dawn and dusks have imprinted your name upon mine, not in a way that restrict you, but in one that frees you. I write you, but even more, I like you to read the abstract and interpret on your own. The lens I wear sees pink in you and finds your reflection in nature, the cosmos, and even in desserts.  Every evening, as the sun sets, my coffee grows cold, and the fudge calls my name, and I get lost in literature; my heart grows restless for you. And every sunrise, my dawns remember you as I take my first cup of  morning tea before leaving home. You are there in the folding of my evenings and the opening of my days. I feel both the warm and coolness of you.  Carrying you throughout the day, Under July's light,   ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  All the world on one side, and you on the other. My hate for the company on one side, and my love for your presence on the other.  If every time you made me happy, I picked a flower, my drawing room would forever be filled with bouquets. My feelings for you have long surpassed the measure of flowers; they now bloom where seasons cannot reach. With each sunrise, I experience more aliveness in me as every dawn adds one more day in our togetherness in the same world. Looking for more dawns with you,  With love,  ~Zara M.

If you ever decide to choose otherwise, Choose what knows your worth.  Surrender to the little joys of life.  Embrace petals that reshape your gentleness into something celestial. If you must depart,  Do it gently. Like the sea approaching slowly to drown someone unaware of their death.  Your departure will wound me within,  Yet, it would be gentler than the wounds of your remaining without belonging. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Solace Today the sky remembers your name. As the rain pours on the earth, each drop speaks your name, carries your silence, and leaves the atmosphere serene.  Rain has never touched my heart but as the time lapses, seclusion has learnt my name, and I have leaned more towards nature, where falling drops from the sky mirror the very nature within me, winged hearts welcome the sky's tears and surrender themselves without resistance, much like I have surrendered to the quiet chapters of my own life. They are but reflections of the stories I have lived. Standing behind the window, watching downpour descend from the heavens, holding a cup of black coffee while staring into the day, seeing your image in every falling drop, carrying you in my heart and your thoughts in my mind, writing to you, I know of nothing that could unburden me more than this.   Until my next, ~Zara M.

.....After all this time, under the midnight skies, velvet nights, and rose-coloured evenings, we learned to admire each other. Our admiration deepened with our cozy conversations, silent gazes, and the soul connection. I do not see a moment where comfort ever dismissed us.   I believe every moment we are creating memories, and the same happened between us. Under dusky heavens, our stars kept aligning, and the Milky Way crafted cosmic rivers that kept favouring our destinies.   As the moments pass by, tonight, standing in solitude under nights woven with stars, which were once love-soaked nights, I recall how joyous our moments were. Sharing the sky alone today makes me feel as though I am drowning, with nobody to save me from the ocean that has risen to take me.     ~Zara M.

We touched each other without touching. only gazed at one another, without a single stir.   It happens in life, where the communion of souls  and spiritual nearness overtake lingering presence. No longer does the language of proximity matter; what remains sacred is the silent admiration  and the gravity within the eyes.  When unspoken words take the shape of language,  sunrises linger within the eyes,  and the silent understanding awakens, they leave behind unforgettable memories.    Our silences found their voices before words had taken space;  an exchange of silent dialogues,  entire conversations carried through the eyes. ~Zara M.