L A N G U A G E   O F   T H E   D E A D

Ayesha Zafar

Illustrations by

Manahil Mustafa Khan

Daastan PVT LTD 

House # A-41, Madni Street, Lala Rukh, Wah Cantt, Punjab 47040 

www.daastan.com 

www.meraqissa.com 

Text copyright  © Ayesha Zafar
Book cover copyright © Ayesha Zafar

Illustration copyrights © Manahil Mustafa Khan
Edited & Formatted by Maliha Zafar

The moral rights of the writer and illustrator have been asserted 

All rights reserved 

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or distributed in any manner  whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of  brief quotations in a book review. 

ISBN  978-969-696-618-0

Printed and bound in Pakistan by Pixel Printing Solutions

Mercy on me for when you look - let alone the rain,

but the entire sky on skies; 

all hundreds of them, crash on me. 

Mercy on me for when you talk, I forget to listen to my heart,

all for your voice.

For Imran Zaheen,

who taught me how to use my heart without thinking twice, taught me that there are rivers of sorrow in the forest of love and I'll probably not make it out alive. Taught me that regret is the last word that should stay in my hands.

"Waqt Darmaan-Pazir Tha Hi Nahin
Dil Lagaaya Tha, Dil Lagaa Hi Nahin

Tark-E-Ulfat Hai Kis Qadar Aasaan
Aaj Tou Jaise Kuch Huaa Hi Nahin

Hai Kahaan Mauj-E-Saba Woh Shamim
Jaise Tu Mauj-E-Sabaa Hi Nahin

Jis Se Koi Khata Hui Ho Kabhi
Hum Ko Woh Aadmi Milaa Hi Nahin

Woh Bhi Kitna Kathan Raha Hoga
Jo Ke Achcha Bhi Tha, Buraa Hi Nahin

Koi Dekhe Tou Meri Hujra-E-Zaat
Yahan Sabhi Kuchh Woh Tha Jo Thaa Hi Nahin

Ek Hi Apna Milney Waala Tha
Aisa Bichhda Ke Phir Milaa Hi Nahin"

ー Jaun Elia

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am indebted to Adil Majeed for his love and support, which has kept me going even on the darkest of days. For me, he has been the benchmark for the amount of kindness and compassion a human can possibly hold in their heart. This book would have never been completed without his encouragement and trust in my abilities.

I am grateful to Abdullah Zafar, Maham Zafar, Hiba Rehman and Fareezeh Danny Sidhwa, who have always been there for me. I must have done something really great to have these incredible people in my life. 

I must thank Ms. Fatima Suleman, who introduced me to literature in the most beautiful of ways. I’m sure that it must be the right way to do so because here we are.

I cannot possibly forget Roha Ali Khan, for being the soft safe space whenever there was a storm. Thank you for teaching me that love is gentle and holds the power to fix anything in this world. 

I do not have enough words to express how inspired I am of Manahil Mustafa Khan. Her work has always left me amazed and I am honored to have her illustrations as a part of this book, which is so close to my heart. 

How can I possibly forget Pir Mohammad Mufaz, who has been there for me at every stage of bringing this book to life? I consider myself lucky to know a talented person like him. 

I’m thankful to Syed Farzam Kirmani, who shared my passion for poetry in the exact same capacity which made me love it even more. Thank you for writing with me, and learning with me. 

And lastly, my dear parents who have always supported me as much as they can, despite fighting a hundred battles at the same time. Their strength and patience makes me want to become a better person every day.

ITINERARY

Chapter 1: Warm Seas
It’s a lot of I don’t knows; my life. I keep forgetting no matter how hard I try to tie it to myself. I always want to remember the feeling (my heart), not the sights. 

It's difficult to recollect and relive. Maybe that is why I am so confused about the relationship between time and human memory. Is time the inhuman aspect of the human mind? There are lies we tell ourselves and forget. It is an endless spiral of nothingness. 

Chapter 2: The Constellations
It’s wonderful how gravity keeps us on the ground. I would not be lying if I say that I fear what else we’d have done if not for it. My heart is grounded because of the relationships I have attached myself to. The gravity of emotions, I’d like to call it.

I've known disappointment since ages now. It's like my old friend. Being let down is home to me and I want to move out. I want to close my eyes and trust love. I pray that it follows me everywhere, no matter what.

Chapter 3: Sunlight and Coffee
I am tired - again. Sometimes I want to sleep all the time and sometimes I don’t want to, at all. 

‘I want to die temporarily.’

Why do I do so many things all the time? Why am I so impatient for moments of random happiness and all the fantasies which are only beautiful when imagined?
Maybe our inner peace is the only destination we strive to reach. 

Chapter 4: Fingers That Make Hands
Everything existent is so endless, so infinite. And by everything I mean people, nature, ideas - everything. You’ll keep exploring more and more until you choose to stop. It’s up to me where I want to stop thinking about it and that specifically determines if that thing, for me, is good or bad; that time and that capacity. Those different levels at which we stop are our identities. A combination of a lot of ideas. A mix tape.

Forever is the only truth we have ever known, it’s just that we don’t have the ability to chase it.

Chapter 5: Melody from Far Away
Sometimes people and things look beautiful from a distance but what to do when you get used to the distance? When that becomes the most comfortable place ever. You feel unsettled when there’s someone and when they try to come a little closer, you realize that you’re afraid. 

Love is challenging and it becomes terrifying when you’re alone. Is it the fear of separation or the risk of losing yourself?
You love to see but you don’t want to be seen.

Chapter 6: Wheels of the Suitcase
There are so many things which drive us away from home and it’s surprising that nearly all of them grow in ourselves, like wings. It’s cold out there and I don't want to get out of my bed in the morning, no wonder it’s breaking my heart. I know that I have to get up but why do I not want to? At this stage, the airport is my home more than home itself. 

It’s a bad dream to leave someone's heart. And a nightmare to be removed from it.
How do I carry only the things which mean the most to me?

Chapter 7: The Cracking Dawn
I felt that there will never be any light again. With time, I realized that I never want any light to be there either. I’ve become familiar with the dark and maybe started feeling comfortable in it. It’s still the same. I panic at the sight of dawn, of light and of love. I fear the fall and therefore I fear the sky when at last, I’m on the ground. 

It’s sad how you start running away from something so innocent and pure as the dawn and you don’t wait for the night to be over anymore.  It’s too cruel if you refuse yourself the right to see and feel the sunrise. 

Chapter 8: Curtains Do Open
Curtains - we’re talking about the wind, not our hands. Doors have their way of opening at the right time even if there’s no one behind them. It’s you who chooses if you want to walk by yourself or to be dragged by destiny. “Everything happens for a reason”, but what’s more important to know is that it’s you who makes that specific reason. Decisions make reasons, ideas make reasons and actions make reasons. These reasons make up the wind. And the wind opens curtains even if you’re asleep. 

Nothing happens by itself and yet what happens is at times uncontrollable. 

Chapter 9: Smoky Hills
Transitions are always vague – or if I say it in the language of an optimist: colorful. You’re playing; you’re in the game. It is high and it is low and trust me, you cannot see clearly at all. In that frenzy, it is very likely for you to lose track of your way to your destination and when the clouds finally lift, you realize that you’re somewhere far from where you last fell. 

You are the home
and places, people, memories - all live in you instead of the other way around.
We call it 'the curse of transitions and changing time'.

Chapter 10: Bad Handwriting
Our handwriting becomes terrible when we are forced to write a lot. Similarly, our hearts become tired when we are under the pressure of a lot of expectations – your expectations, from you. Why do you only see what you want to see in yourself and not what is there already?