marshmallow

I want to crawl over your 

collar bone, tuck myself 

beneath your skin, imprison

myself behind your ribs and 

hug you from the inside.

Credits - Alicia Auch

amrita pritam & sahir ludhyanawi

A young Amrita Pritam, madly in love with Sahir, wrote his name hundreds of times on a sheet of paper while addressing a press conference. They would meet without exchanging a word, Sahir would puff away; after Sahir's departure, Amrita would smoke the cigarette butts left behind by him. After his death, Amrita said she hoped the air mixed with the smoke of the butts would travel to the other world and meet Sahir! Such was their obsession and intensity.

on my knees

if you were to suddenly appear on the road

that i'm walking

right now

i will fall on my knees

weak & shivering 

with a strange mix of pain & pleasure

and if you smile, only god can help me..

.

oh, what would i not do

to relive our first kiss

and that uncomfortable unfamiliarity

of seeing your face properly

for the first time.

that night of our first snow,

when every flake was a spoken word

and every move, so incorrigibly impetuous.

State of Happiness

late at night, when only broken teenagers
and felines are awake. maybe it's 3
(or 4, or 5)
or right when sunshine slinks through.
somewhere between consciousness and slumber.
i turn, fingertips brushing your skin,
warmth dispersing under my pores.
not fully awake, not quite asleep, i wrap my arm 
around your torso,
my lips placing lazy kisses upon your freckles.
your fingers, from alertness, or habit, grasp onto mine.
and somewhere between the state of consciousness and slumber,
i fall back asleep.

if you are going to ask what my favorite thing is, or
what on this earth makes me the happiest,
i would tell you to read the lines above

Courtesy  - Amber S

sapne bhi pareshaan karne lagey hain aaj kal,

hairaan karne lagey hain.

neendein hi neend udaane lagi hain,

aur khamoshiyan, shor..

Toska

"Toska - noun /’tō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.

No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom."

Vladimir Nabokov, cited in A Field Guide to Melancholy by Jacky Bowring