Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Mere Dil Mere Musafir …

… only something that has no history can be defined - Nietzsche

The alchemy of mixed emotion is driving me back to home. The route is intensely packed with the viruses of temptations which distract me from the very destination which I am seeking since the birth of my conscience. The word ‘Home’ always make me cynical about my sense of belonging. The perplexed question for me is the question of belonging. Where do I belong? I don’t know what deserves to be known or claimed as home. Will ‘ I’ be considered as homeless till I discover ‘The Home’ for my ‘self’ – the self which always seek home for eternal serenity. In this unknown journey towards the eternity the self of mine remains an object of anxiety and melancholy whose subject is skeptically clouded with optimism. Amidst the time of travel, home of mine is the heart of the beloved – the source of distant yet closest affection, which is powerful enough to make me insanely conscious

wired in the same old question

which is rooted in history

history which is rooted in us

we come out of history

and history comes out of us

life is simple or complex

its history and historic

but simplicity of life

is in the complexity

and complexity is simple

if 'we' create history

a simple story will be written

in most complex fashion

the story of our love is

simplest of emotion

and complex in reaction

... and hence continues my travel towards the destiny of simplistically complex love ...


Taleeb bin Waquar said...

A well written post...easy to understand...but complex in nature...

Anonymous said...

Love would always seem simplistically complex unless it is weighed down by responsibility. Responsibility gives meaning, essence and shape to the ever complex love.

nur ruzana kamarudin sohami said...

beautifully written. Like it.