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The sequence breaks without you— every verse I write becomes a cipher, every silence a dialect no one else can read.
So let the world call it gibberish. Musalsal sirf tum mtrjm – continuously, only you translate me home.
Given that, here is a short poetic piece in English, inspired by the mood and mystery of that line.
You translate my scattered alphabets into a continuous ache, a soft running script of unspoken things.
Others see random letters: mslsl – a chain with missing links sirf – a limit they can’t feel tum – a pronoun too heavy for their tongues mtrjm – a word they skip like a stone.
