Let it be anguish as long as it had been love

Thoughts thoughts, many thoughts...

First, let us begin with some poetry and music.

Ranjish Hi Sahi, written by Ahmad Faraz, Urdu lyrics with the English translation, performance by Ali Sethi:

Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa
Aa phir se mujhe chod ke jaane ke liye aa
Let it be anguish, even to torture my heart, come
Come even if only to abandon me to torment again.

Pehle se marasim na sahi phir bhi kabhi to
Rasm-o-reh.e.duniya hi nibhane ke liye aa
Come, if not for our past commerce,
Then to faithfully fulfill the ancient barbaric rituals.

Kis kis ko bataayenge judaaii ka sabab hum
Tu mujh se kafa hai to zamane ke liye aa
How many people will I explain my grief to?
If you are mad at me, come just for the sake of this world

Kuch to mere pindaar-e-muhabbat ka bharam rakh
Tu bhi kabhi mujh ko manane ke liye aa
Respect, even if only a little, the depth of my love for you;
Come, someday, to offer me consolation as well.

Ek umr se hoon lazzat-e-giriya se bhi mehroom
Aye raahat-e-jaan mujh ko rulaane ke liye aa
Too long you have deprived me of the pathos of longing;
Come again, my love, if only to make me weep.

Ab tak dil-e-khush faham ko tujh se hain ummiiden
Ye aakhri shamme bhi bhujaane ke liye aa
Till now, my heart still suffers some slight expectation;
So come, snuff out even the last flickering torch of hope!

Maana ki muhabbat ka chupaana hai muhabbat
Chupke se kisi roz jataane ke liye aa
Agreed, silencing your love is the real form of love
Some day, come to silently express your love

Jaise tujhe aate hain na aane ke bahaane
Aise hi kisi roz na jaane ke liye aa
The way you find excuses to not come,
Some day, come with an excuse to stay forever

“Come again, my love, if only to make me weep,” he writes, he sings. This poem, this song, has been on my mind for a few weeks maybe. Perhaps longer. When I decided to finally look for the translation of the lyrics, I closed the web page gathering the ashes left of my heart on my keyboard. I tried to blow at the last few remains, but some of it will forever be stuck between some of the keys, perhaps it will spell your name, perhaps it will spell mine.

The kind of love that I desire worries me sometimes. I find myself dreaming of a love that would mirror the verses of this poem. Now do not misunderstand me. I do not wish to be hurt, or in pain, or heartbroken, that is not what I mean. However…I do wish to love someone with such passion, with such devotion, that this kind of tender grief nestled between the lines of the poem might nestle itself in my chest…just in case.

I find tragedy horribly alluring. I always have. As a child I would sit on the floor playing with my dolls, then I would pause for a few seconds, checking if I was going to die in that moment…and upon seeing that I was still alive, I carried on playing with my dolls. The love I dream of always comes with some sort of difficulty, some sort of obstacle, a grief that nurtures love, a temporary loss that fuels faith. I dream of the kind of love where my lover’s light would shine down upon me like moonlight while I pray, I want a love that intertwines itself with faith, that intertwines itself with me. I want to bathe in his light, I want to drown in his tunes, I want to be the tune, I want to be the one playing it.

I want to see the light of the divine reflect in his eyes when I look at him, I want to melt into my lover’s arms when he puts his hand in my hair. Again, I do not wish grief upon myself or my lover (whoever he may be), but I wish for…something

Just something. A small thing. A year apart, a temporary impossibility, something to justify the thick layer of desperation that coats every act I perform with love.

Again…I do not wish grief upon my lover, but I pray for a lover whose temporary absence I may lovingly grieve over. A lover whose temporary absence, or permanent, would not undo any of the threads I have wrapped myself in, waiting for his return. I want a love that would drive me to the very brink of madness, one for which I would happily jump, for all feelings gain a sweetness when felt for my beloved. Even grief becomes comforting as long as it is something felt for him, a chant of his name repeating itself in my mind: love, love, love, love, love, love, love…