اک اجیب مدعا ہے یہ دل سے بھُلا دینے کا شوق
بھَلا دل کی بھی کیا کوئی یاداشت ہوا کرتی ہے
This quest for a heart to forget is a strange phantom,
These muscle do not possess memories…
Ek ajeeb muda.aa hai ye dil se bhula dene ka shauq
Bhala dil ki bhi kiya koi yadaasht hua karti hai
دل سے بھُلا دینا
dil se bhula dena
An Urdu phrase, the connotation being to stop holding on to the memories of one’s beloved. Literally translated, it means to make your heart forget that which it loved.
Sounds poetic, I know.
Poetically, poignantly heartbreaking.
Because hidden within the words is the irony of disbelief.
First, of course, is the fact that one does not make a heart do anything. One cannot. It has always been the other way around.
It’s the whims of the heart that leave us bewildered as we are powerless to it’s eventual, eternal tumble.
And then there is this magical idea of the memory of the heart.
Do these valves do more than just pump blood? Do they also retain images, feelings, colors and calamity?
What about sounds, then? The heartbeat has a rhythm, a lyric as well as tone. Is it capable, then, of making music, or at the very least, storing it?
If yes, then the notes must be inherently tied into our, your and mine blood cells, don’t you think? And in order to forget, it’s these cells that must also be expunged clean.
Sounds like a torturous, troublesome process. One I doubt will be successful in any capacity. Cutting of a branch doesn’t kill a tree, it just changes it’s shadows. It’s the roots that must be attacked for total eradication.
Salām! I’m Perveen [She/Her], a South-Asian Muslim POC. I’m an introvert who daydreams about love-myths, monsters, and magic during my day job and occasionally binge-watch period dramas at night. Most of my time is spent reading, writing & talking to the cats in my backyard.