मुझे याद ही नहीं कि, मैं था कैसा,
तुम ही बताओ, मैं कैसे हो जाऊ पहले जैसा !!
🖤💥
तुम ही बताओ, मैं कैसे हो जाऊ पहले जैसा !!
🖤💥
❤4😍2
Forwarded from MOHABBAT 🤍 ([ उम्र ])
अपना ख़ुदा बनाइये, गंगा नहाइये
अपने करीब आइये, गंगा नहाइये
ये इश्क़ विश्क छोड़िए, रखा नही है कुछ
काशी के घाट जाइये, गंगा नहाइये!!
🤍
नमः पार्वती पतये हर हर महादेव❤️
महाशिवरात्रि 🕉🔱
अपने करीब आइये, गंगा नहाइये
ये इश्क़ विश्क छोड़िए, रखा नही है कुछ
काशी के घाट जाइये, गंगा नहाइये!!
🤍
नमः पार्वती पतये हर हर महादेव❤️
महाशिवरात्रि 🕉🔱
🔥4🕊1
Forwarded from 𝖴𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 🖤
“you should know how to express.”
it sounds ethical right?! as if expression were proof of emotional maturity. as if silence were negligence.
but the older I grow, the more i wonder.. what if expression is not a skill we lack, but a bridge that was never fully built?
there are feelings that exist before language. they rise from somewhere older than thought.. from memory, from childhood, from unnamed fears, from love that never learned how to stand upright. and when I try to translate them into words, something sacred is lost in the translation.
language demands clarity.
the heart does not live in clarity.
the heart lives in paradox.. loving and fearing at the same time, wanting to stay and wanting to run, needing someone yet resisting dependency.
how do you express something that contradicts itself? how do you speak a feeling that changes the moment you look at it?
sometimes i think silence is not emptiness. it is density. it is the weight of too much meaning compressed into a space too small to release it.
people mistake quietness for absence.
but absence and invisibility are not the same.
i have always felt intensely.. so intensely that i fear if i open my mouth, everything will spill out without order. so i hold it in. i curate. i edit. and in editing myself, i become unreadable.
there is also shame in not expressing. a quiet guilt. As if i am failing at something fundamental to being human. we are told that connection requires articulation. that love must be declared. that pain must be explained.
but what about those of us who were never taught that feelings were safe to show? who learned that vulnerability invites judgment? who internalised that composure is strength?
expression requires permission internal and external. and if you never received that permission, your silence becomes a form of self-preservation.
philosophically, maybe the self is always partially unknowable.. even to itself. if i cannot fully understand what i feel, how can i expect to present it coherently to another?
perhaps the tragedy is not that i cannot express, but that i long to be understood without having to expose every fracture.
there is something unbearably fragile about saying, “this hurt me.”
or, “i need you.”
or, “i love you more than i can explain.”
those sentences are small, but they carry the risk of rejection, dismissal, indifference. to speak them is to admit that someone else has the power to wound you.
so i stay silent. and then i ache from being unseen.
the irony is cruel.. i crave depth in others. i admire those who speak their truth without trembling. yet when it is my turn, my voice dissolves. i become philosophical instead of personal. i analyse instead of confess. i turn feelings into abstract ideas because abstraction feels safer than exposure.
it is easier to discuss the nature of love than to say, “i am afraid of losing you.”
maybe expression is not about fluency. maybe it is about tolerating vulnerability. about accepting that no matter how carefully i choose my words, they will never fully carry the magnitude of my inner world and speaking anyway.
because silence protects, yes.
but it also isolates.
and perhaps the deepest human desire is not to be impressive, or strong, or composed but to be known.
i have always been bad at expressing. not because i feel less. but because i feel in layers too complex to untangle quickly. because my emotions arrive as storms, not sentences.
still, i am beginning to understand this..
expression is not about perfect wording. it is about allowing another person to witness your imperfection. it is about letting your voice shake and not apologizing for it.
and maybe one day, i will stop waiting for the perfect language to describe my heart.
maybe one day, i will simply say it
clumsy, incomplete, trembling
and trust that being understood is not about precision,
but about courage.
it sounds ethical right?! as if expression were proof of emotional maturity. as if silence were negligence.
but the older I grow, the more i wonder.. what if expression is not a skill we lack, but a bridge that was never fully built?
there are feelings that exist before language. they rise from somewhere older than thought.. from memory, from childhood, from unnamed fears, from love that never learned how to stand upright. and when I try to translate them into words, something sacred is lost in the translation.
language demands clarity.
the heart does not live in clarity.
the heart lives in paradox.. loving and fearing at the same time, wanting to stay and wanting to run, needing someone yet resisting dependency.
how do you express something that contradicts itself? how do you speak a feeling that changes the moment you look at it?
sometimes i think silence is not emptiness. it is density. it is the weight of too much meaning compressed into a space too small to release it.
people mistake quietness for absence.
but absence and invisibility are not the same.
i have always felt intensely.. so intensely that i fear if i open my mouth, everything will spill out without order. so i hold it in. i curate. i edit. and in editing myself, i become unreadable.
there is also shame in not expressing. a quiet guilt. As if i am failing at something fundamental to being human. we are told that connection requires articulation. that love must be declared. that pain must be explained.
but what about those of us who were never taught that feelings were safe to show? who learned that vulnerability invites judgment? who internalised that composure is strength?
expression requires permission internal and external. and if you never received that permission, your silence becomes a form of self-preservation.
philosophically, maybe the self is always partially unknowable.. even to itself. if i cannot fully understand what i feel, how can i expect to present it coherently to another?
perhaps the tragedy is not that i cannot express, but that i long to be understood without having to expose every fracture.
there is something unbearably fragile about saying, “this hurt me.”
or, “i need you.”
or, “i love you more than i can explain.”
those sentences are small, but they carry the risk of rejection, dismissal, indifference. to speak them is to admit that someone else has the power to wound you.
so i stay silent. and then i ache from being unseen.
the irony is cruel.. i crave depth in others. i admire those who speak their truth without trembling. yet when it is my turn, my voice dissolves. i become philosophical instead of personal. i analyse instead of confess. i turn feelings into abstract ideas because abstraction feels safer than exposure.
it is easier to discuss the nature of love than to say, “i am afraid of losing you.”
maybe expression is not about fluency. maybe it is about tolerating vulnerability. about accepting that no matter how carefully i choose my words, they will never fully carry the magnitude of my inner world and speaking anyway.
because silence protects, yes.
but it also isolates.
and perhaps the deepest human desire is not to be impressive, or strong, or composed but to be known.
i have always been bad at expressing. not because i feel less. but because i feel in layers too complex to untangle quickly. because my emotions arrive as storms, not sentences.
still, i am beginning to understand this..
expression is not about perfect wording. it is about allowing another person to witness your imperfection. it is about letting your voice shake and not apologizing for it.
and maybe one day, i will stop waiting for the perfect language to describe my heart.
maybe one day, i will simply say it
clumsy, incomplete, trembling
and trust that being understood is not about precision,
but about courage.
❤5🥰2
Life will never wait for us to be okay. Get up & keep going...🌷✨
Good morning 🌄❤️✨
Keep hustling keep growing & always keep muskurana...❤️✨
#мυвαнιℓα_Qυαdri
Good morning 🌄❤️✨
Keep hustling keep growing & always keep muskurana...❤️✨
#мυвαнιℓα_Qυαdri
❤6
कितना ख़ूबसूरत लगता है सफ़र शायरियों का,
जैसे लफ़्ज़ों का पुल हो मेरे तुम्हारे दरमियाँ..!!
~❤️
जैसे लफ़्ज़ों का पुल हो मेरे तुम्हारे दरमियाँ..!!
~❤️
❤8
किंतु,परंतु,लेकिन,अगर,मगर,काश नहीं करते
निभाने वाले कभी बहानों की तलाश नहीं करते......
❤️❤️
निभाने वाले कभी बहानों की तलाश नहीं करते......
❤️❤️
😍6🔥2❤1
न जाने कौन सी दौलत है तुम्हारे लहजे में,
बात करती हो तो दिल खरीद लेती हो ..🌸🤍
बात करती हो तो दिल खरीद लेती हो ..🌸🤍
🥰5❤3
वो अगर पत्थर भी मारे तो उठाकर
झोलिया भर लो....मुर्शद...🫰🤍
महबूब के तोहफ़े कभी ठुकराए नहीं जाते..🌸🕊️
झोलिया भर लो....मुर्शद...🫰🤍
महबूब के तोहफ़े कभी ठुकराए नहीं जाते..🌸🕊️
❤9
Forwarded from MOHABBAT 🤍 ([ उम्र ])
बस ख़्वाब बेचता हूँ बनाता नहीं हूँ मैं
लेकिन ये बात सब को बताता नहीं हूँ मैं
दुनिया से मुझ को इतनी मोहब्बत ज़रूर है
बारिश में भीगता हूँ नहाता नहीं हूँ मैं
करता नहीं हूँ याद किसी को मलाल में
ऐसी हवा में फूल खिलाता नहीं हूँ मैं
अब तेरा खेल खेल रहा हूँ मैं अपने साथ
खुद को पुकारता हूँ और आता नहीं हूँ मैं
बस रोशनी समझ के मुझे राख हो गया
वो ये समझ रहा था जलाता नहीं हूँ मैं
आसाँ नहीं हैं मेरी अज़ीयत के दाव-पेच
मरता हूँ और जान से जाता नहीं हूँ मैं
'मासूम' बे-करारी है मेरे ख़मीर में
उड़ती है मेरी ख़ाक, उड़ाता नहीं हूँ मैं!!
🤍
लेकिन ये बात सब को बताता नहीं हूँ मैं
दुनिया से मुझ को इतनी मोहब्बत ज़रूर है
बारिश में भीगता हूँ नहाता नहीं हूँ मैं
करता नहीं हूँ याद किसी को मलाल में
ऐसी हवा में फूल खिलाता नहीं हूँ मैं
अब तेरा खेल खेल रहा हूँ मैं अपने साथ
खुद को पुकारता हूँ और आता नहीं हूँ मैं
बस रोशनी समझ के मुझे राख हो गया
वो ये समझ रहा था जलाता नहीं हूँ मैं
आसाँ नहीं हैं मेरी अज़ीयत के दाव-पेच
मरता हूँ और जान से जाता नहीं हूँ मैं
'मासूम' बे-करारी है मेरे ख़मीर में
उड़ती है मेरी ख़ाक, उड़ाता नहीं हूँ मैं!!
🤍
❤4
Forwarded from 𝖴𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 🖤
to love things even though you know they won’t last. to keep hoping even when everything feels like it’s falling apart. to look for meaning even when nothing guarantees you’ll find it.
maybe that stubborn choice to care anyway is both the saddest and the most human thing about us.
maybe that stubborn choice to care anyway is both the saddest and the most human thing about us.
❤1😍1
👌2❤1
Forwarded from MOHABBAT 🤍 ([ उम्र ])
एक ख़्वाब मुझे लोरियां सुनाता है
एक हकीकत मेरी नींद खा बैठी है!!
🤍
एक हकीकत मेरी नींद खा बैठी है!!
🤍
❤5
मैं,
अपने मूल्य से पूर्णतया: परिचित हु,
किसी के द्वारा दी गई राय से मुझे फर्क नहीं पड़ता,
चाहे वह प्रशंसा हो या निंदा....
अपने मूल्य से पूर्णतया: परिचित हु,
किसी के द्वारा दी गई राय से मुझे फर्क नहीं पड़ता,
चाहे वह प्रशंसा हो या निंदा....
😍2
All the best boards students...❤️✨
First of all don't think and stress yourself about things which beyond your control
And definitely don't think about result and what if
You prepared well...Just try to relax talk with family and friends...just chill
Revise those topics you studied already and don't try new topics Go slow ....
Pray and Believe 😌
#boards #exam
#мυвαнιℓα_Qυαdri
First of all don't think and stress yourself about things which beyond your control
And definitely don't think about result and what if
You prepared well...Just try to relax talk with family and friends...just chill
Revise those topics you studied already and don't try new topics Go slow ....
Pray and Believe 😌
#boards #exam
#мυвαнιℓα_Qυαdri
❤1🕊1
तुम्हे बस ये बताना चाहता हूं,
मै तुमसे क्या छुपाना चाहता हूं!
कभी मुझसे भी कोई झूठ बोलो,
मै हां मे हां मिलाना चाहता हूं!
अमीरी इश्क़ की तुमको मुबारक,
मै बस खाना कमाना चाहता हूं!
मुझे तुमसे बिछड़ना ही पड़ेगा,
मै तुमको याद आना चाहता हूं!
~🤍
मै तुमसे क्या छुपाना चाहता हूं!
कभी मुझसे भी कोई झूठ बोलो,
मै हां मे हां मिलाना चाहता हूं!
अमीरी इश्क़ की तुमको मुबारक,
मै बस खाना कमाना चाहता हूं!
मुझे तुमसे बिछड़ना ही पड़ेगा,
मै तुमको याद आना चाहता हूं!
~🤍
❤3🥰3
इंतज़ार हमेशा ही मेरे हिस्से रहा
एक लंबा इंतज़ार
कभी बुरे वक़्त के गुज़र जाने का
कभी किसी ग़लत के सही हो जाने का
कभी सच में मुस्कुराने का
कभी खुल कर अपना दर्द बताने का
कभी यारों में अपने लिए यारी ढूंढने का
कभी अपनों में अपनापन पनप जाने का
कभी अपनी बातें कह पाने का
कभी अपनी मर्ज़ी से रह पाने का
कभी खुल कर हंस लेने का
कभी ज़ार ज़ार रो लेने का
कभी किसी अज़ीज़ के लौट आने का
कभी किसी अच्छे लम्हें के ठहर जाने का
हां इंतज़ार
मेरे हिस्से आया बस इंतज़ार...!!
~मुक्ति
एक लंबा इंतज़ार
कभी बुरे वक़्त के गुज़र जाने का
कभी किसी ग़लत के सही हो जाने का
कभी सच में मुस्कुराने का
कभी खुल कर अपना दर्द बताने का
कभी यारों में अपने लिए यारी ढूंढने का
कभी अपनों में अपनापन पनप जाने का
कभी अपनी बातें कह पाने का
कभी अपनी मर्ज़ी से रह पाने का
कभी खुल कर हंस लेने का
कभी ज़ार ज़ार रो लेने का
कभी किसी अज़ीज़ के लौट आने का
कभी किसी अच्छे लम्हें के ठहर जाने का
हां इंतज़ार
मेरे हिस्से आया बस इंतज़ार...!!
~मुक्ति
❤3😍1