Letters to My Love… (2)

You are the smile on my face, inspiration for my foot steps, and motivation behind my breath. No less, and a lot more! How many times do I want to tell you that I love you, but there are not enough words. And, the words commonly used are not dignified enough! O Love! O Love! O Love! You teach me how to live. You are an example of life itself. Actually, you are ‘the’ Life. Your eyes are full of dreams, even at dusk! Who knows it is a new beginning! Your lips have freshness of rose petals, and, your smile is like that of an infant!

You made my life what it should have been ideally.what it was, when you first met me, but a replica of hell.my eyes were as dark as starless nights, my lips were dry leaves, and smile that of a dying person. You made me live, you made me love, you made me the Love!

Letters to my Love… (1)

It is a midget like expression in comparison to what I feel for you, and, what you feel for me! Mere ‘I love you’ is not enough. I wish language had such a thing as expression in it, then I would have told you what you mean to me…

You are not a flower, whose life is a day or two; nor are you a moth, who dies for the love of light! You are light itself- one who can consume a million moths and still dazzle the Sam- patiently and peacefully.

You are not the universe, for universe is too tiny, you are not anything, nothing in particular but everything that one can be, and that which one cannot be. You are not ordinary, nor is my love for you. My love is not a mere spark, or a bonfire lit in controlled circumstances; my love is a fire that can consume forests , villages and cities alike, and still be unsatisfied. You are that first drop of rain which lands on this rage, and instantaneously calms it down.

For how many times do I want to tell you ‘I love you’; but, words are dwarf and you are a giant. From where should I bring such words as may define- no, definition is not all inclusive- from where should I bring such words as may express what you mean to me. I wish, I could become like you and each and every thread of my being expressed ‘you’.

….Sahar Raman Deep

Author of ‘The UnSaid: Listen to the Silence “

The UnSaid: Listen to the Silence… a book by Sahar Raman Deep

Poetry comes from the highest happiness

or the deepest sorrow.

….A. P. J. Abdul Kalam

Embrace!

As puss comes out of a wound

My anxieties came out of me

Such was the effect of your embrace

O child of resonance !

As tears come out of dry eyes

As breath flows

In an attack of asthma

As a blister bursts on the skin

Of a child

An ah came out of my being

And I wondered

What was it

That just hug me

An angel or devil?

Or,

Plain innocence!