Yeh dil kab ishq ke kabil raha hai
Kahaan isko dimaagh-o-dil raha hai?
When has this heart been capable of loving?
When has it had the intelligence (to play the game) of love, this heart of mine…"
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"Isn't that the brutal truth of love, that you can never choose the ache it leaves you with, that it doesn't matter if you offer to take the pain on your unprotected breast, it will still stab you in the back? She had no defences left anymore, and began to weep gently."
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After the leave taking (the story teller said) there is the leaving. And once you have left, you discover the ten thousand things that you still carry - memories of touch, scent and sight.
"It is only after leaving that you discover the city within you has changed, and its roads wind now to different destinations. After the end of love there is the unloving, when you can engage in the ceaseless hunt for all those things to be taken out, and somehow discarded; when you can fight against the new roads and try futilely, to return to what you were before.
There is, though, another choice. Half the story of love is the discovery of it as you put it behind you. And with that discovery comes the knowledge that your own journey is still incomplete. The maps have changed, the continents have shifted, and the horizons are not the ones you remember. However, the road is still open and there is much to see, but only if you have the courage to see that the first step is always a departure."
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."
hahah! thats all I wanna say.
"Yeh dil kab ishq ke kabil raha hai
Kahaan isko dimaagh-o-dil raha hai?"
wah wah !!! ;)
Utopia - Nice one there. Are they your words or are they from some book ?