Where heart melts into words.: A Quiet World, A Better World

Quotes Box

"I have known music to be her timeless reverberation in a forlorn corner of my soul; just when life was closing down upon me with its pangs of haunting silence."

"Hope is the point the 'world within' comes to an equilibrium with the 'world around'."

"The cold that my body feels can be comforted by pullovers of our choices. It is the winter that comes back each year, inevitably; is how we are connected on the face of time. A sweet suffering of forever..."

"My poverty, I know, was glamorous because trading you, my love, for a better life is outright heinous."

"Love was the day when she drank and I felt quenched."

"Life, ever since, had been one gripping tale. Your happening gave it a genre."

"Want is the soul's desire. Need, the mind's crave. Love, thus, I believe, is a bit of both."

"Art is how you lie to the world without ever feeling sinned."

"Sorrow is true and beyond the powers of healing, when you can taste the oceans on your lips."

Imagine all the people you ever came across staying back, never leaving your side, a world without goodbyes or heartbreaks, of all friendships and acquaintances retained, of never being through abandonment, of no one ever forgetting anyone or letting go; our lives would've been a bloody chaos. An incorrigible disarray of lives breathing down our neck about their dreams, desires, and apathy. Much like the city's Sunday market strip: an alley thronging with people desperate about their needs, all of them wanting to be heard, to be prioritized; everyone going out of their way to opine, to lend their voices to a political debacle around the corner that had started to amass impetus; everyone in a frenzy, rushing to be elsewhere; an entourage of bodies pushing against one another, hollering, haranguing, never ever having enough of it.

What a pitiable situation it would be, to be living lives without silences in them, without a corner of quiet to pray, to play soft music, to write letters to loved ones or pen verses in longing. If not for anything, let this soothing environment of calm be the justification for everyone who left with or without notice, to everything you held dear but eventually lost in wanting and all the pieces that fell off leaving you hollow. It's alright, friend. That is how it is supposed to be. Only when the contours of a boulder are chipped away that it gives way to a sculpture. And you're on your to being one. Relax. That last failed relation you're grieving about was destiny sculpting a handsome set of eyes onto your soul. Now the light shall reach your blood and you'll know that you had done no wrong. It's all fair. To be left out, forgotten. Every receding wave leaves more than just muddy sand; a lasting silence to sing yourself a song. Embrace it: this fall, the quiet. You’re an art in making. Don’t ever worry. Nothing is ever so precious to be substituting your inner quiet. No love so valuable to be losing your music.

By: Sobhan Pramanik