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.

Dear Heart,  Gentle Soul Happy to write to you again. More playfully, let me say: My Dear Cupcake,  You are well aware that writing to you is my favorite hobby, and addressing you as C upcake does not necessarily mean I am hungry; it refers to the cuteness you embody and the fondness I have for you.  Your face is as juicy and chocolatey as the fudge. Your voice is as sweet as caramel but a salted one; of course, talking to you gives me the same butterflies I get whenever I see deep cocoa hues.  The moment I see you, or even imagine a conversation with you, I become my most playful self, full of childlike wonder; toying with you brings me the most untamed joy.     I cherish these little moments I spend unfolding my heart to you. Peace arises as my words come to rest with you. Though they may never reach you, I like to believe that one day they will.  Written in sunlight instead of moonlight. Till the next letter, Bye. ~Zara M.

This summer, the months remained heavier than the heavy, warmer than the warm, and longer than the long.  I have witnessed long winter nights with dark skies, lunar light, and my solitude. But the summers then were lighter than the light with heaven's expanse, sunset's palette, and cosmic rivers; all that burdens my soul now. Time seems to be longer and darker, with each renewal of hope, I rebuild myself before I am torn once more.  Though the summer guests bloom as before and orchestrate the mornings, they no longer favour me. The solitude once confined to winter nights has taken over my summers. I started to believe that inner seasons are liable to create our outer seasons. ~Zara M.

When the world goes odd and fruits go sour,  Carry a cup of coffee and a well-loved book to make a moment of ours. The wide, dark night filled with stars  Shall remind you of all we gave from our hearts.  The moonlight spilling silver all across the path  Shall awaken an echo that resonates with your scars. Do not become heavy due to the gravity of memory.  But try cherishing what we once considered reverie. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  As the night falls silent, It recalls me all: a face that blooms when it smiles, cheeks that cradle quiet sunshine, and hair that engulfs dark twilight. Watching your image come and go, tender crossings of our souls, infinite conversations that lead to perpetual peace, and yet, the dreams that never return to release. I write to you, in hours of despair, joy, solace, and  grief. Every time I am done writing to you, it is either anxiousness or tranquility, and these days, it is infinite unease that remains.  The depths of night take me further into the world where your impression resides; experiencing it at every unfolding brings disquiet to my soul.  Night leans in your favour, makes my silences choose you and draws my inner world to your presence alone. Yours, in every lifetime, ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  These days I write ceaselessly, with obsession, almost to the point of smothering the page. My words streaming from my heart, flowing endlessly; I am overwhelmed with emotions, and steeped in devotion. I am unknown what this condition is: calling it abiding tenderness for you or madness, I am unable to decide.  At the moment, writing is my escape, my refuge, where I let my heart turn into ink and find consolation. It has kept me alive through this period of crisis: mental or emotional, It no longer matters to me.   Until the next letter, ~Zara M.

I am no ordinary soul you will adore. I bring intoxication, madness, and quiet delirium.  I shall be the place where your name never fades. My soul shall continue its pilgrimage towards you. Still, it shall ask nothing of you.  I shall write to you out of obsession, Several pages at once, to the edge of reason, Yet, I shall never stand between you and your freedom. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  I have not admired anyone to the extent that tears fall, tenderness peaks, and radiance blooms. May this never be unknown to you; I recognize you as the one, the only one with whom I can speak of my daily rituals, golden hours, amber dawns and violet dusks, the shades of clouds, twilight hues, sunflowers, slow afternoons of summer, and the falling leaves.  I find no other who can bear my unburdening soul or the spilling of my heart over things that seem insignificant to the world but are of colossal significance to me. I can tell no one how flowerets talk to me, smile at me, and fill my silences with their tenderness. This has remained beyond your knowing: the sacredness I find in your companionship, the solace your aura brings me, and the quiet belonging I have always found with you. With quiet devotion, ~Zara M.

Memory is the time that stays,  It sees us as we grieve in our own states,  The memory of your passing is still fresh,  How you left me crying behind your flesh.  You did not stay to see how it would affect the life I live afresh.  I was the one most loved by you; Now there is none to see me through. Reflections of a lifetime spent beside you Have all reduced to echoes after you.  A love like yours, purer and softer,  Is nowhere to be found since you. You drifted away, choosing the easiest, Leaving me to the company of only tears, Rolling down my cheeks every night since May 27 Deepening my silences to the core edge it was never,  If there is a way back to ever... (I wish.) Your favorite granddaughter is grieving since ever. I look each night to the skies, Hoping you are watching over me from the heavens. Forever your granddaughter, ~Zara M.

 Dear Heart,  If I could spend my time only as I wished and desired, I would spend it in writing alone, writing to you about the shades and rhythms of you...about the skies, the birds, and the colours of nature. I would write to you about the phases of the moon, the daily sunrises, and the rosy silence of twilight. I would speak of the seasons, the weather, and the flowers that remind me of your gentleness; of the rain, whose droplets fall upon my cheeks and soothe me with the feeling of your presence; and of the winds that so often tease me with your delightful name... I would write to you endlessly, simply to tell how dearly I hold you and to let my heart breathe through words.  ~Zara M.

 The sky bleeding rose and gold, where quiet stories unfold. The moon spilling honey and hues, while the heavens loosened their blues. The clouds showering a rain of starlight, as nature breathed in light. The evening pouring feathers of twilight, as horizons go silent... As though every sunset still belonged to you, Yet, every shade becomes another shade of you. ~Zara M.

 Dear Heart, I write to you hastily, in panic, overflowing with words, intense feelings, and trembling hands. I write what burns inside me, as the boundaries of this world restrict me from unveiling the ache that lives within; I prefer to breathe my words into the page. I am very much aware that these pieces will remain with me far longer than I imagine, unfolding only within my own solitude. Yet a quiet sting of hope never leaves my side; someday, somewhere in life, they may still find their way to you. Perhaps the pages will grow yellow and brittle and crumble at every touch as they surrender to time. It is also very much the possibility that the scattered thoughts I entrusted to these papers will one day fade into obscurity. Yet even then, they will still bear your address, preserving the deepest feelings and strongest emotions I once carried for you. Always, ~Zara M.

 I realize I have felt the golden, crisp autumn of October; the light, cool breezes of November; and the love of December during the summers of May to July. You poured into me all the blonde sunrises and the rose-lilac sunsets. That petal-soft heart of yours awakened a velveteen bloom inside the tender soul of mine. My already fragile heart could not resist the honeyed verses and tender traces you etched upon my delicate being. I, with a brittle individuality, let every fragment of me soften beneath your quiet nearness; I almost surrendered to the realization that the July within me was intensely stirred by the fullness of your presence. ~Zara M.

...And since I house your echoes, carry the horizons of us within me, long for your presence with unbearable intensity, write about you obsessively, and imagine you infinitely, almost to the point of craziness, I desire you to be here with me, sharing the earth beneath the soaking sunlight and endless blue skies.  I cannot bear the shadow of your presence; my heart has never learnt to live on echoes alone. It is worthy of a home, and it has never recognized one except yours. ~Zara  

Dear Heart,  I have that sudden urge to write you everything, everything so little yet so deserving of being shared with you. It is the intimacy of sharing the smallest details that has always undone me. The language of my heart is so incomprehensible that I struggle to weave it into lines, as though every feeling exceeds the reach of words. As I tell you, I am full of letters that I never found the courage to send you.  They remain folded within me, waiting for a season brave enough to let them find you. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, Every breath carries the memory of your nearness. Every dream keeps returning me to you. Every thought lingers on a dawn that never truly departed. Every page I write carries the echoes my soul never forgot. Every season within me waits for you endlessly. Ever yours, ~Zara M.

 My every sunset folds into another dawn, and each dawn carries the possibility of you. I linger for your return, for the evening's quiet embrace, for the inner sunrise you awaken within me, and for our time to be together. My world pauses where you departed. Here I lie, inking the infinite obsession I carry inside me until every page gets heavy with what my eyes could never hold. I write to the extent that the lines overflow with words and the paper surrenders to the quiet rain of my soul. I am convinced that peace will arise, though not from letting the unspoken find ink but from endlessly imagining you to the point where my soul mingles with yours until your presence surrounds me completely. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Somewhere beyond the far edge of this endless night, there I am, living unbridled thoughts of you: the sunshines and the storms, the tenderness and the trials, the embraces and the farewells, and the nearness and the distance. In between it all, I find solace in nurturing a thought that it is us against the world. Though imaginary, it exists. Though absent, it is present. Though a night unfolds us in different tides, it still comforts me to know that we share the same night beneath the same sky. Though we stand at different corners of the world, we continue to exist in each other's memories, apart but never entirely separate. ~Zara M.

 Dear Heart,  My silences have always stifled my emotions. I have always restrained what my heart has felt; my hesitant heart has made me loosen the grip over several of my desires. On this day, when I encounter numerous layers of thoughts where our souls drift toward separate tides, I recall how joyous I have felt with you and how strongly I have remained gripped to your soul all along. A voice that questions its own echo seldom dares to become a confession. It leaves its deepest concerns in silence, and stillness, believe me, has a way of distorting everything. ~Zara M.

You have sparked within me a love for prose, a lens of rose-tinted glasses through which to view the world, and the vocabulary of nature. Without you, I would not have moved an inch and would have clung quietly to an ordinary era of living. You have crafted me in a way: I have learned to let petals become my language, blossoms become my thoughts, and the whispers of nature become the voice of my heart. ~Zara M.

The shadow of farewell has turned every joy with you into pain. The shared moments of boundless joy are trailed by the mere thought of your absence. Your spirit unstitches my existence and holds sway over every fiber of my being. Your presence, so deeply woven into my identity, is resisting every inch of thought that parts us. The flowing days have already witnessed refusal, the eclipse of presence, the descent of darkness, and ultimately the dread of love becoming a memory. Unsettling my core has remained your favorite pastime, as though you find a quiet delight in watching me settle for nothing but the lingering essence of you. ~Zara M.

You bring forth the finest poetic prose writer in me, writing about my daily imaginary conversations with you or with God about you, yet I hate writing about you like this. I wish for nothing but your quiet presence before my eyes while I slowly unfold every secret and heart's desire I carry in silence. I dream of the day when I will behold your very being and tell you every single thing I have borne in my heart for you.  ~Zara M.

I carry countless conversations to God about you; I tell Him how sweetly you have adorned every thread of my being even when your soul was far from mine. I take my silence to the Divine and let him discern the joy you once put in my soul, though my eyes speak but my lips falter. My eyes translate what my lips cannot, reaching the deepest chamber of my soul, where tears surrender without resistance. He, the knower of my every unspoken truth, my secret keeper, is aware of the deep affection my heart bears for you. I am intoxicated by your name; merely speaking it overwhelms me. Every midnight, my spirit turns to the Eternal, eyes awash with emotions, prayer on lips struggling to become words, and holding onto the hope that a single KUN from Him may reshape the destiny my heart longs for. Every moment of despair deepens my dependence on hope, for I see it the only mean by which my soul survives. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Not everyday is Sunday, and not every day are things aligned. Things scatter all at once; today I feel my pieces dispersing across the continents.  Not every day the sun shines brightly; it dims at times. Today I sense my world growing poorly lit.  My heart hangs low today; several things at once, and no one to carry the burden with me or assist me in relieving myself of this pain that I have packed inside me.     With moments, I have shaped myself in a way that assistance no longer remains my requirement; nature has been on my side, listening and supporting every time there is a need. My autumn never needed a landscaper to cultivate spring there. But tonight.... it feels heavy. The moon refuses to spill silver upon me, the stars engaged elsewhere; I walk beside solitude, and words return to me alone.  With a heavy heart,  ~Zara M.

Lone morning strolls beneath the trees, with birds singing and the leaves whispering; the solace of greenery; and at the back of my mind, there was you. Recalling every bit of what we shared, our endless laughter, love-filled gazes, and unspoken emotions. The moments that made us whole, filled my life with joy, and gave even the quietest hours a reason to breathe.  ~ Zara M.

Dear Heart, As your autumn falls, you remain my evergreen. Even in your dusk, you are my dawn. In your eclipse, you are still my sun. I have admired your every shade; even in your blue, you remain my rose pink. With tenderness, ~Zara M.

No vocabulary has learned the shape of the feeling your smallest tenderness awakens within my very being. Moments unfolding almost unexpectedly, honeyed words, and your velvet-like emotions mend every unseen fracture within me. Those moments gather every scattered piece of me and returns it to where it has always belonged. You stir my soul with feelings it has never experienced before. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, Sweet Indulgence Writing is where my soul belongs, and the essence of you is where it belongs, too. A blend of both makes me incessantly and obsessively insane.  Sending words to you has taken the shape of a golden ritual, where my denial holds no significance before the universe. Abstract world has overtaken me and I am buried beneath, while the soul sits in heaven. I sincerely wish you sometime write to me about your days, but I am swallowed by your silence. It rests with my knowing that my wishes are not fishes, and I do not swim in riches but being a human, I am melting into cocoa. All aside, always elated arriving at you through words.  May all your tomorrows carry a significant amount of honey on your toast. Until my next, Bye.       ~Zara M.

I will fail to remember. I will cut adrift. I will tear apart a piece of you within me. But I will still dream. I will create fantasies of you and me,  together, sitting side by side,  holding unto each other's souls, Our eyes speaking  while words failing to align,  listening to each other's heartbeats, and adoring every moment of us together, every midnight, in my dreams.  Zara M.

I recall one July in particular; things were tender and unhurried, the air was warm, and the sun witnessed you looking at me as though I were something ethereal. There was a time when July stood sacred in my life, with its solace-filled aura and hearts full of warmth; today, when I stand in July, the past has been folded into memory, and new chapters are quietly unfolding. The amber-spilling sky, on an evening in July. ~Zara M. 

Dear Heart, Honeycomb  I keep expecting you every day; my days grow slow when you are not around, when I do not get to see the sunflower beneath the human skin.  My warmth, my maple, my honey, without you, my days are quiet like a bunny, funny and unstable.  I carry you like a gentle season of my heart, where I keep blooming from the inside out. You have remained an unwritten poem in my heart that I have begun to pour onto paper.  You have become my sweet indulgence; people become intoxicated by wine, I by your sweetness.  Till the next hot chocolate, Bye. ~Zara M.

 Dear Heart, Some things are hard to speak of and no easier to write about. Feelings, especially, are like carrying rain through a desert; they ask to be held, yet they resist being put into words. It makes little difference how good a writer one may be. When it comes to laying one's heart bare before another, words suddenly lose their certainty. No matter how often I have tried, I have always found it hard to give voice to the unspoken truth my heart carries. I have never been good at speaking, nor have I ever managed to write it exactly as I feel it. With all my silence, ~Zara M.

 I lift my eyelids, and there is nothing but you. I close my eyes, and all that remains is you. As the moments pass, the whole of me becomes your silent fragment, adorned completely in your essence. I am no longer myself; my breath wears your name, until I am none but something entwined with your sacred depths. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  While halfway through the collection of Buddhist sayings, Dhammapada , I came across a verse that says  clinging to desires is the root cause of suffering, and letting go liberates us.  It makes me realise that attaining freedom demands neither resistance nor attachment, but acceptance.  As time gently passes by, my hopes of witnessing words from you are folding into dusk, and I no longer resist your irreversible departure.   Reading another verse that says the mind holds immense power in shaping our reality  forces me to cling to hope that things might yet turn around. But in case they do not, I have made peace with it; it has become a part of me.  Until another dawn of thought, ~Zara M.

 I am the most elated being under the moonlight. I touch the reflections that are perpetually absent but unceasing in nature. The images, ingrained inside the depths of my heart, consumed my brain and made me relentlessly yours. Your presence is threaded to my existence; despite resistance, I am swallowed by it. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  As I recall, Ray Bradbury once said, " We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real? " It makes me realize that being desensitized is not a substantial achievement; sometimes we need to let emotions flow out of us. Suppressing them unsettles our consciousness and strengthens our subconscious state of mind.  Understanding that, I am letting my emotions breathe; they are breathing through ink, and I am letting things fluctuate inside me, tensing me to such an extent that hurt could no longer hurt me.   With every sip of my coffee, I cannot help but ponder how I have learnt to observe the ache, let it haunt my quiet, and let my nerves learn resilience.      Until my next cup, ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Summer Comfort Writing today to tell you that each time the sky calls me, it asks me about you. Painted heavens, sapphire serenity, and sun-soaked blues have all become my companions, knowing more about you than I remember telling them. I admit, I at times falter when it comes to human connections, but I am very well acquainted with sharing moments and personal diaries with nature.  Putting my thoughts on paper beneath a summer sky, it witnesses how you have remained my comfort this summer. Finding you between my sentences, opening my heart and soul to you, is such a solace the world ignores.  I sometimes wonder: what if writing had never been invented? What would have become of me, as I cannot speak of it all to you? Fearful of being judged, and more than that, fearful of losing you as a good companion.  Always happy for you, wherever you are, nearer to me, absent from me, yet still close to me.  Glad you gave me gentle summer afternoons, enjoying ...

The skies above witness how we have ached for each other's presence. The stars pour their souls into heaven to unite us. The darkness witnesses our call into silence until the hearts shatter. But mine burns alone now. Your every unspoken call carves a fracture into my heart. Yet, every fracture knows its way back to you, and you only. Each midnight, my very being, verging on a prayer mat, your imprint lingering on my lips and within my soul drawing me out of my inner zone... until I dissolve completely into your depths. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, The lavender delights do not remain lavender all the way. Seasons seldom stay, and hours wear different moods; similar is the atmosphere at this moment. But my every mood respects your name. It has learnt a way to keep smiling through all the odds when you are around. My affections have absorbed a way to fade grief as your presence casts its shadow.  My pages carry countless emotions at once, becoming heavier as I completely surrender myself to ink. They grow heavier with words and the bubbles dropping from my eyes.  I have grown familiar with silence once again.  A heart moving through dim constellations,  ~Zara M.

I find it hard to undo what my heart has done. Seeing you with a lens of warmth, I remember how wondrous everything had just begun. Watching another version of myself become. Witnessing shades of you that are layered,  To me, each one of them is treasured.  Keeping you within the geography of memory, I am cherishing every thought of beholding. The moments of an ardent kinship  Are all that I am holding.  The past holds the power of not go in vain.  Yet, I clench my fist to preserve it in my hands. Here I am uttering the silent confessions.  And you, listening to it all, for it is sacred.   ~Zara M.

 My heart speaks to yours. Yours answers mine. Yet our lips falter, giving voice to the wonder our hearts already know. Our souls recognize one another. Our hearts are already intertwined. Only the confines of the world and the mind resist the force that draws us together. ~ Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Honeybee I adore you to the extent that the constellations fall short; chains of islands fail to embrace your vastness; flocks dwindle beside the countless thoughts I carry of you; bouquets elude the fullness of your beauty; groves and meadows are outgrown by the solace you provide; and even the banks of rivers cannot contain the quiet abundance of you. With quiet affection, ~Zara M.

 Dear Heart, You are so dear to me, the kind of dear that is inexplicable: soft as dawn, woven with light, and spellbinding. I dream of you with every passing moment, and every whisper of the wind brings you closest to my soul. Each time sleep carries me to you, I find myself in a field so green where even the wind forgets to wander without your name, and the wildflowers seem to bloom only because you are there. My spirit rests within you; I drown in you, where every restless part of me falls beautifully silent. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Jellybean Grandma passed away.  It feels unbearably heavy to write to you with a burdened soul and languid eyelids. I find no one with whom to share my grief. I have remained present for everyone, yet no one seems present for me. I am not complaining, just telling you. Expectations have always remained distant from me, but being human, there are moments when the heart still aches.  Her love has remained the purest I have ever known, a love I know I shall never find again. Who will stand beside me now? Who will defend my wrongs with the same unwavering affection?  Society feels painfully selfish. People have become unbothered by one another; sometimes it feels as though humanity has quietly failed.  I am writing with trembling hands and tears that refuse to stop falling. I do not know how much more of this I can bear.  Until I find my footing again, ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Bluebell The middle of May has approached, and the moon still stands witness to my consistency towards you. As you bathed me in serenity, wrapped my May in light and blossoms, and taught my soul the geography of the heavens, I ask for nothing more than you.   I sense my affection keeps growing, poems flowing out from my mouth, and ink knowing no way to stop. Every sip of my coffee has become fluent in you; it has begun breathing your name with me.  You are on the edge of never knowing how much I tell the moon about you; it listens, smiles, and blesses me. If you ever encounter him, ask the moon how often he has borrowed your name to comfort my nights.  Tonight, it is you, coffee, and the moon again. Till the next phase of the moon. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart  Sunlight Your honeyed eyes, beneath a forest of dark tresses, and my poetry does not stop there.  Eyes like the golden sun, spilling amber on the earth; My heart beats like a drum, adoring the creature God has sent to earth. You have given my heart a moment to breathe, a moment to write poetry, and to smile all over again. My heart witnesses how smiles pour over the place I choose to stand; I feel it all within me, and I radiate.  Your sunflower heart has poured all the golden light into my very being and helped it live like a free bird. With the warmth of Summer,  ~Zara M.

You are kinder than the kind the world knows about.  A beauty of the kind, people write poetry about.  Spilling gold-silver around, people crave it.  Not an ordinary soul that people talk about.  You are a soul all the literature of English is about.  A universe of literary symbols bookish souls cherish all around. Those bound by the ordinary do not belong to the horizon you are about.  The fears you may carry are instilled by those unfamiliar what your content is about.  The shades upon shades of nature are the reflections you hold close about.  Colors woven into your being are uncommon to speak about. Only those untouched by the ordinary Can understand what your soul is about.   With devotion, ~Zara M.

 Dear Heart,  Though I am not good at speaking my heart out, I have always been good at understanding silences, and yours, I understand all too well. The tenderness you show me and the way your rest upon mine speak a language no words can ever translate. I never needed grand declarations from you. Your quiet presence, the gentleness in your gestures, and the pauses that lingered between us always reached me before your words ever could. Some hearts converse in voices; ours, I believe, learned each other through silence. ~Zara 

 Dear Heart,  I wish we were butterflies, free of all the chaos, past and present, and untroubled by the future. We would have flown together to continents, chasing seasons, witnessing blooms unfold, asking nothing in return but the gift of the sunrises under the same sky. Until I write you again, Bye. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Reading Dante today, I am reminded of the idea that knowledge has limits but love does not . Though he celebrated reason to a great extent, he also recognised its limits, and that it was not fully enough to understand reality. Beyond a certain point, reason must yield to love. For a moral life, intellect is indispensable, yet love remains equally significant, for when one loves rightly, it becomes a path that leads the soul toward God.  I realise how paramount fondness is in our lives, yet how often we avoid it in the hustle and bustle of living. Our age has leaned so heavily towards intellect. Many people reach remarkable heights of intellect, while failing to recognise what fondness can quietly do for us.   Much of medieval Christian thought speaks of finding God through the  path of love. How beautiful this idea is, resembling the spirit of Sufism of Islam, where love, too, becomes a means of drawing nearer to the Divine.  I have always ador...

Dear Heart,  Sweet Pea I see us as part of the same literature we both equally admire. If I tell you honestly, the fantasy I have carried throughout my life while reading English literature, I now see quietly coming to life.  Today, reading Emily Bronte, beneath an open sky, in pleasant weather, all my mind could think was that there is someone in my life who shares the same love and taste for literature as I do. If I tell you honestly, all my life, I had always believed that French and Italian literature leaned more towards reality and deserved admiration for that, while English literature belonged to the countryside, romance, longing, and separation.  As life moved forward and you found your way into my seasons, it finally clicked why English literature has captivated hearts for generations. It fills life with life, gives ordinary days their own poetry, offers seasons to cherish, and teaches us to find meaning even on the descent from the hills.    As the lite...

 Dear Heart,  Here are moments when my thoughts wander to the hope of what if we could get to exist side by side with each other for eternity? If only the dreams I have carried could take the shape of reality and we could build our lives together, sharing moments, pretty little secrets, and our own tender vocabulary with one another. A life where even the ordinary could have felt extraordinary simply because it was shared with you. Till we meet again, ~Zara M.

I was born to have flowers beside me: sunflower, marigold, and goldenrod, no longer matter. What remains at the top is how you ask the spring to fall before me. My delicateness and your strength, the universe puts us to the test; together, we are at our best. The harder we resist, the deeper we coexist, and our hearts remain entwined. As destiny twists,  the gentler we kiss,  and the world blooms in spring. As you puts flower in my hair, the orchard dances in the air, we bloom beyond compare,  and every season becomes our prayer. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Moonbeam The sky is growing wider, the stars shine a little less brightly on my side, and the moon often lingers behind clouds. None of this heralds your fading from my heart but things are getting slow.  Turns come, and lives move to and fro. The sky does not remain lit all the time; it is upon us to see the shine in the dark, I am on it, but trials do not leave my way; the past lingers. I have always believed in seeing sheens when it is gloomy and finding a way through the murky.  Though standing at the edge, I am sanguine about the dim, yet joyful that your existence is healthy enough to fill my life with substance.  Until the stars permit, ~Zara M.

April reflects my inner seasons: soft sunshine, new leaves, and blooming orchards, a time when the fading winters greet awakening springs. Together we unfold the life's new strings,  whether attached or attached remains a debate. My poems rhyme as the pearls of your voice,  as though they had never been given a choice. Everything aligns as April comes alive; us and the sunshine, beside one another, very much alive.   ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, Buttercup I am often at a loss when I wonder where my metaphors come from whenever I write about you. Every page I colour is filled with what I see in you; these metaphors arise from the heavens you show me, and I merely capture them in my writing. What I ink down are the images you leave behind, a million colors of you. Being a writer, I simply preserve what you carry, for it is too precious to let sink into the mud.  I do not create images of my own; it is you who holds them within you. I merely gather them and give them a place to rest upon these papers.   My literary art owes itself  to you, for without words, images, metaphors, a writer has no place to exist.  Till the next you come, Bye. ~Zara M.

You are Sirius to my entire sky, shining so brightly within me that the world pauses and stares. It is your light that outshines mine, your reflections that undo me, and words that flow out of my tongue like petals. You have belonged to me since the Big Bang and will continue to belong to me through eternity.    Our souls recognize what we could not embrace; every midnight the stars rearrange to tell the stories our hearts already know. Every constellation sketches your name; each galaxy paints itself in your colors, and the Milky Way preserves the images of us it has already known.  ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Sunflower All the flowers in the world together possess the softness you embody. My conversations with each of them always find their way to your features. I tell them that I hold the human version of floral petals in my life, one who carries the gentleness of a blossom; I remain unfamiliar with your fragrance, yet I am certain it smells like a garden in spring.  In you, I have experienced every season, and each one, with its own character, has become my favorite. You carry within you, the sweetness of mangoes, citrus of oranges, the beauty of cherries, and the delicateness of lychee, all wrapped in the gentleness of a blossom.   Every season is yours, fly as far as you wish.  Till roses turn blue.  Bye. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Sapphire I recall your eyes, the garden in them, where jasmines grow and roses bloom. The deep seas they carry, the grief they hold, and the tears they refused to let fall. I have witnessed it all.  Despite everything your heart has endured, your eyes still persuade flowers to bloom; I have seen lilies in them. I believe that is your quiet miracle: the grief visits you, but beauty refuses to leave. Dark, wide eyes, holding wildflowers, tulips, daisies, and whatnot draw me in, while the oceans within them haunt me day and night. Until the jasmine forgets its fragrance, ~Zara M.

Dear Heart, I met you last night beneath an orange tree. A farm filled with beautiful green trees carried little suns upon their branches, while sunshine poured from the sky, and the orchard wore golden lanterns gifted by summer. There we were, standing beneath the clear blue sky, the sun bathing the earth in its promising yellow. Our words flowed as gently as a quiet stream. We found comfort in each other's words. Nature stood witnessed to us, the birds sang songs for us, and every conversation became a place where our hearts came to rest. My dream was not a fantasy, but a reality of another world, where we sat beside one another beneath the green trees carrying little dawns. I wish for more such dreams with you. Until the next sunrise, Bye ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  My North Star and My Cinnamon Evening, Without you, all I feel is like dwindling. As you bring me cocoa and comfort, the memory keeps lingering like a wonderful dessert. My heart had never found a home where it rests free from hurt.  The atmosphere you bring me is much like chocolate therapy, where I unwind and relax like Winnie-the-Pooh after a pot of honey. I feel loved as your presence lingers; not even the finest truffle tastes sweeter. I wish for tomorrows filled with melted marshmallows, with us beside each other, as warm and slow as maple syrup. ~Zara M.

Under this crescent moon, I am remembering every word you ever uttered... holding you closer more than ever,  as if in your warm memories, my soul loves to burn cherishing you like a quiet prayer my heart always muttered.   ~ Zara M.

Dear Heart,  I am happy to know that we share the same world, exist within a similar time and space. Our paths through time may move in different directions, but the space we inhabit is the same.  It is the one constant of the world that time changes and things take their turns. I am unaware of what our future holds for us; I have never expected an intimate forever with you, only all my tomorrows. I believe it is an upright decision to hold you within me and beside me, with no expectations, no control or imposition, and no losing.  Creatures like you have become exceptional to find. As fortunate as I am to share seasons with you, I am not so wishful as to clench my fist so tightly that the sand escapes between my fingers.  You are a free bird, fly and chirp all around; I am here to admire your every turn.  With a heart full of you, ~Zara M.

Being present in broad daylight under a heavy grey sky that seems as if it would burst into tears at any moment, surrounded by green pastures, people moving here and there, with no sign of a bright sun or even a faded moon, the cold winds, and the stillness of winter; my thoughts still could not let anything cross my mind except you. Seeing you in every earthly heaven, wishing for you to be beside me, imagining us lost in an amorous moment, I realized, as if my mind had surrendered to my heart that my existence had become limited only to you. ~ Zara M.

Silent moments of the night, dim lights, your strong presence within absence, and the self within me all merge into a single, living moment, flowing into one another: you, me, and our unforgettable, eternal bond. Physical distance loses its essence and surrenders to this moment. I have kept you hidden in my soul and my verses. I have buried you deeply within the lines I write. I have etched you into the very soul of my words; you exist within my soul, my heart, and, most importantly, within my diary, where no one has access. You have settled deeply within my soul’s embrace, where the two of us are aligned at a depth only the universe and whatever lies beyond it can witness: that we are one till we breathe our last. ~ Zara M.

The moment I came across the rain, every drop reflected your image, as if my eyes were made only to find you in everything the universe placed before me. The dark clouds, the dancing trees, the wet paths, and the fallen leaves, all carried your presence, becoming a reminder that every beautiful thing holds but one reflection, and that is yours. Standing for hours by the window and watching the rain, feeling its smoothness and softness, breathing in its quiet scent, I found a strange calm. And only later did I realize, it was not the rain that brought me peace, but your imagined presence within every falling drop. ~ Zara M.

The night before today, I encountered a fantasy about us: you and me, under the sapphire moonlight, tiny, vivid, glossy stars, a sight of the ocean with a light wind, soothing sand under our feet, my fingers tightened into yours, eyes displaying each other's reflection, tousled hair, uneasy breath, so merging into one another's souls as if making us one; we were weaving an endless memory of being one. Wind is singing our song of love; the universe is witnessing us being trove of love and the devotion and tenderness we are radiating, both to the world and to each other's souls. The ocean, with its dark energy, is astonishingly dancing with its waves to make our moment of being one feel whole; the night sky is unfolding its beautiful colours to shape an idyllic moment of happiness, and we are delightedly holding each other's image while pushing the pressures of the world to their limits, admiring each other to the utmost. ~ Zara 

Your image comes in front of my eyes when I am celebrating my solitude; in a room that is empty, your portrait is the only rest to my languid eyes, a shine to my gloomy vision that is restricted to seeing only the dark that has long captured it with its dominance. The kind of peace my soul craves is a variable that exists within the enchanting round face your body carries, the eyes that sparkle so brightly like the stars in the sky, and the hair, so soft as when caressing the fingers; it radiates a soothingness that my body has long forgotten to admire. You, your image, and your invisible presence are my dearest friends in a time when I am alone, and I will keep making comfort with your memory till my breath reaches the other side of the universe. ~ Zara

Dear Heart,  Sweetest One The sweetness I carry within me for you is beyond words. Though I always had it within me, your sunsets and sunrises have poured all the warmth of the heavens into me. I do not see myself ever not smiling at you, even across thousands of lifetimes; you are an image that pours honeyed flavour into me.  The warmth I carry is a blend of your flavour and mine, one that has always existed. Your mingling within me did not spoil my flavour or aroma; instead, it enhanced them. Whatever our destinies have chosen, our moments of quiet comfort, the silence we understand, and the poetry between us are taking the shape of memories, ready to be cherished through every tomorrow.  Let your inner world dance to the tunes it chooses. As the evening settles,  ~Zara M.

The nights like these, where you gaze at the stars: the bright, shiny stars, under the dark sky with their reflections and gleaming sparkles. You gaze at them to the extent that they begin aligning according to you, where they start talking to you, sending the signals you have always waited for. After all, they are the witnesses of all your sorrows, the griefs, and the unsaid words that have remained tugged inside your very soul like a knife, cutting it internally with such brutality that it rendered you nowhere. They have witnessed how you have never come across a moment where you could have opened yourself to breathe.  These stars, accompanying the moon, are the companions of your loneliness that has never been seen by the world, the alphabets that never got aligned in front of the external world, the memories that tarnished you from inside but kept playing in front of your eyes till you surrendered yourself to their fate. The silent heavens above are the companions which the wor...

Dear Heart,  It has been days since I last wrote to you. Do not feel that I have drifted away; I have been nearer than the nearness itself.  Worldly pressures often create physical distances, but I believe emotional ones are far more difficult to recover from. Ours, however, can never become a distance of the heart, of that I can assure you. A part of my sky has remained unlit without you, your image has found a permanent home in my heart, and I can feel not more happy than I am these days. Keep a little corner of your heart for me, and I shall keep an entire universe within mine for you. With endless tenderness, ~Zara M.

Destiny never works as a wish-granting factory; the more you tilt towards something, the heavier you feel inside, as longing leads to the fear of losing it. Acceptance provides what calmness demands; letting go is never easy, making peace with harsh truths is always intricate, and ascending to desires is never as simple as it seems. ~ Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Starlight I always love to welcome you to my little world, full of literary emblems that only you cherish. The world has grown so dull that it has almost forgotten to admire the classics; its taste has dwindled into mediocrity.  Seeing you with a unique taste, so wonderfully akin to mine, makes me wish you would stay with me. The eternity and happiness truly belong to those who appreciate tiny details of nature, find beauty in the unusual, and love the classics.  Witnessing you as part of this odd world reminds me of the two odd stars in the sky, far from everyone, sharing the same sky, yet happier together in their own space.  That is us. Two odd stars.  Together. ~Zara M.

You existed in me longer than you ever did beside me. As his image appears, something inside me ignites; the world seems to pause, like moonlight suddenly spilling over the earth, soft and silver, and everything grows still just to witness his rare breath. Few images on this earth are rare enough to spill silver into the soul, and yours is the one that lingers in mine. Loneliness is not empty; it is filled with you. ~ Zara M.

 Every time I speak to you, there is a bloom of bliss; you awaken quiet gardens within my soul and offer me a bunch of light pink petals that comfort my inner wounds. I recognise that gradually you are becoming a gentle ritual of my heart, belonging to a chapter my heart had long closed. Watching it quietly come alive again is like unfolding a light-soaked forest for me, where patches of golden light become a gentle balm soothing every restless part of my soul. ~Zara 

In moments of my quiet turmoil, your shadow enfolds me, permeating every cell of my being, unsettling my shell, and leaving your spirit imprinting upon mine. ~ Zara M.