All this love, all this love for you – I don’t know if it even reaches you but by god, it must light up the night sky.
You once told me you imagined my love coming forth like an ‘arado’ – a plough ripping the earth open making its way to you.
But I will tell you where it goes. Rather, I will whisper it. Try to hear. Fireflies. Love is what lights them up, you see. It’s what gives them their glow. Love, as it travels across the earth, through the miles. The trail blazes and fireflies are singed in the dark. One after another they are like cigarettes lending ember one to another. It sets the night on fire.
Passion is the plough. Passion unearths, deconstructs, undoes. But love, love will set aflame the light of your eyes.
part-broken, part-whole 
Something i’ve been wanting to say for a while.
Coleman Barks wrote that ‘Sohbet’ has no english equivalent. I didn’t know what to make of it, although i fell in love with the word. Almost like love at first sight. I may be wrong, but i think i have an idea now. Your words are sohbet for me. You are the storyteller. I usually never have anything to say in return, but the words always linger with me. I feel like i am swimming on the surface protected in a 100 layers. But when i read something written by you, i feel stripped off the layers. “and a hundred veils fall each moment”. That by baring your soul, you have bared mine by bringing me to it. Maybe that’s what sohbet is, your words, and the conversations i have with myself when i read them.
Love,
Diksha
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