From the heart

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A sun rose. The heart smiled but kept quiet. Winter came and temperatures dropped. The heart shivered and yet was still. It was when the storm came, that the heart spoke its first word. A word, from the heart.

Wine red with desire to see the world, two autumn leaves climbed down from their tree. Bidding goodbye to their home, two autumn leaves journeyed to the ground. And seasons passed, one after another, chasing each other. The poor leaves parched with thirst, yet crossed the desert, hoping to bloom a bright green again. Hope, from the heart.

The heart felt Pain’s sting. And knew it was still alive.
Unchanged through the changing seasons.

It felt the ties that bound it to safety. Ties made of thorns, bright, sparkling and barbed, tying it down. In wonder, it opened doors made of stone. And in hurt surprise, watched them grow back into walls. Yet amidst this, roots sprouted and buds bloomed. And the story continued connecting its characters with ties that bind. Ties, from the heart.

Ripples in the water. Waves in the sea. Forming and fading, like feelings, from the heart.

A prosaic translation of Gulzar’s Dil se re from Dil se

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