Collection: Muntashir

I never thought about the past; it barely ever weighed down on me. In fact, back then it was all about the now. The present felt absolutely delicate as if it would slip right through my fingers. The past, on the other hand, seemed heavy like concrete and despite its weight, much easier to store away and not consider.

But now..., I understood that one could not exist without the other- the present rested on the shoulders of the past.

So welcome to the past album

I wanted to leave a farewell note but I didn’t write because Abba promised me that once things get settled, we will be back. I know you cursed me next morning when you came to our house for breakfast and no one was there. I know you wept bitterly when the walls and swings in my courtyard didn’t answer your questions. I know you asked every passerby about us. Can you believe that in those years I only missed you when I breathed?’
# saanjh sarhad paar se ...

I am stuck at the very start of this letter as I am unable to address you. Should I address you as I used to do before? It’s very odd for me to call you with your full name. Should I call you with your nickname? Every night that I open my notepad to write to you, my eyes fill up and I have to leave my pen without writing a word. Today, I am allowing tears to fall on the page… Do you remember how you used to say that the day I forget you, you will punch me on my big jaw? Why don’t you come, then?