meray mehboob tujhay meri mohabat ki kasam

this is one of the songs my mother used to hum when she'd be working around the house. and sometimes my father would help her around the house and hum with her. 

hai, ghar yaad aa raha hai. 

ive been reharmonizing all of the songs my mother used to sing. i was 7, and then i was 10, and then i was 16. and finally i was 20 and i left. the songs stayed the same. sometimes as she sang she would begin to cry and i had no idea what to do. 

ghar seh pyaar hai mujhe. oon se pyaar hai mujhe. i want to apologize to her for only just now beginning to understand what part of her is within me, after 24 fucking years. 

ive only felt connected to him, but lately ive been searching and i think i am discovering the essence of her inside me. she is a strong woman. she does not like emotional things like i love yous and hugging. so i may never be able to communicate to her what i am experiencing. 

dil ko bholi hoi yaadon ka saahara de de,

mera khoya hoa rangeen nazaraa de de. 

meray mehboob tujhay meri mohabat ki kasam... 

- mohd rafi

Udhero Na music video!!

finally, we have released our first music video. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5q0YlbrncnQ

here are the official credits:

Udhero Na

Directed by Anum Awan

Photography by Anum Awan and Natasha Jahangir

Guest Actress Nahid Noori

Written and Composed by Arooj Aftab

Arranged by Stelios Michas

mitti

i felt mud beneath my shoes last night. a lazy deep bass note that the earth sends up through the sole and the heel of my feet into my body it hits my heart and i feel so warm.

the facade warm rain of boston is happening again. that damn time just about now. 

this cave that the eagle sits within, perched among treebranches, in a corner, has windows thank God.

the light from without is ice gray bouncing off the orange and deep red and brown which is my cheap attempt at trying to be inside the earth. 

fuck i really dont like this concrete lid over the whole damn city, i dont like it. 

the earth is dead and there is a giant lid over it. like a tomb and we are all chilling on top of the tomb. 

opium is scenting my little nest, it is so damn incredible. i love when the setting sunlight plays with the smoke in the air. they play madly in time with each other.

there is cold in my bones because the heat is turned down. i like how it makes my shoulder blades crack. 

yaar. i think i miss my mom.

yes.

the master of darkness, is approaching quickly. 

there is no one here to save me. 

there is no one who can truly understand. 

this is my drive, this is my madness. no one can understand. 

i need a saviour, but there is no one.

i am spiraling, in slow motion. 

downwards, but you dont see it.

you are disbelieving, because it is convenient to disbelieve.

this is the story. and so it continues

your name on my keychain.

my love song to you

is two and a half years overdue. 

but today i wrote it. 

and it is filled to the brim, with my most loved three things.

a spiraling, beautiful sadness. 

a rattling, hollow madness.

and you.

--

your name on my keychain

ive been trying to undo since november.

there are seven beads strung along a black thread. 

why did i count the letters so late...

to not even realize that you add up to my favorite number.

--

i sit unmoving. in one solid place. 

i am drowning. 

i click 'save now' at the bottom of this window. it doesnt. 

i send you love, and health, and all of myself. 

--

i visited the park where we used to go. 

but it is covered in snow and water and dirt, and snow.

i wonder how much we have left to grow.

i am a polar bear

anum and i were totally bored one day and went all around each berklee practice room, stopping and listening to the bands practicing inside until we came upon room B62, and we heard this:

www.myspace.com/soffieviemose

I am a polar bear

who wants to get out of here

but my stereotyping makes it difficult for me, 

to move.

and i need a will to live 

to feel free, free to give.

when i want to, when i need to 

but i dont want to know.

I am a fish on dry land

and i want to leave this island

ive had enough of water

in my lungs.

--- 

To what capacity may I behold your love, stranger?

Beautiful images and words enter and leave my head ... i retain or reflect nothing.

I may not behold your love, but I hold your gaze very well, very strong. 

I sink deep into those dark eyes that I cannot stop to exoticise.

--

Sleepy eyes, will we meet again?

Do my eyes make you feel like Im feeling...

(Your Eyes -Amel Larrieux)