CHEAT SHEETS FOR EVERYTHING

باغ بہاراں تے گلزاراں بن یاراں کس کاری ؟

یار ملے دکھ جان ہزاراں شکر کہاں لکھ واری

Baagh baharaan te gulzaraan bin yaaraan kis kaari Yaar milan dukh jaan hazaraan, shukr karan lakh vari

–Mian Muhammad Bakhsh

What effect of this spring, of these garden, without my friends?

When friends meet, share the griefs, I offer gratitude thousand times

arabic poetry is so beautifully yet painfully romantic, i mean “they asked “do you love her to death?” i said “speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life" and “because my love for you is higher than words, i've decided to fall silent" could have got jane austen crying and shaking

LOVE LETTERS<333.

Dear October, please be good to me.

"After so much time, after so many years, I still find time in my day, just to think of you. Just to remember you. Just to let your memories hurt me. Just to feel pain. Just to reminisce about the fact that for a brief moment, I was happy. Just to recall that I loved once. Just to recollect that I never will again. "

-Suicide never felt so sweet

ਬੜੀ ਦੂਰੋਂ ਚੱਲ ਕੇ ਪਹੁੰਚੇ ਹਾਂ, ਇੰਜ ਨਾਂ ਸੱਜਣਾ ਬੂਹਾ ਢੋ।

Badi duro chall ke pahunche aa, inj na sajjna buha dho

ਮੇਰੇ ਕੋਲ ਨੇ ਗੱਲਾਂ ਦੋ, ਜਾਂ ਆਪਣਾ ਕਰ, ਜਾਂ ਮੇਰਾ ਹੋ।

Mere kol ne gallan do, ya aapna kar, ya mera ho

I've travelled miles to come see you, please do not shut the door

I just have two things to say to you, either be mine, or make me yours.

Fyodor Dostoevsky's manuscript draft of The Brothers Karamazov. via twitter

Aaj Saqi Sharaab Rehnay Do

Tishnagi Ke Azaab Rehnay do

Ponch Dalo Na Aankh Se Kaajal

Kuch Tou Khanjar Pe Aab Rehnay Do

Tum Sanwaro Apni In Zulfon Ko

Meri Halat Kharab Rehnay Do

Chaand Badal Main Acha Lagta Hai

Adhay Rukh Pe Naqab Rehnay Do

Un K Chehry Ki Baat Ho Jaye

Aaj Zikr-e-Gulab Rehnay Do

Un Ki Chokhat Ko Choom Lo Mohsin

Baki Saray Sawaab Rehnay Do

Mohsin Naqvi

Posted one of my favorites after ages♥︎

being a self-taught artist with no formal training is having done art seriously since you were a young teenager and only finding out that you’re supposed to do warm up sketches every time you’re about to work on serious art when you’re fuckin twenty-five

𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝟷𝟸, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟸 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹

[ID: July 12. Something moved me when I looked at her. END ID]