Nerbo's Diary : Life as it passes by

That’s so well written. Good job :clap:


Thanks a lot. There are kinks but this poem has came after a long gap.


The beginning was sad and pessimistic
The ending was hopeful and optimistic
In its entirety, beautiful and artistic.


Thanks a lot, man. Thank you all for this encouragement.


Nice poem
Well written

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Apparently my partner in crime has his own diary too. But no entry since a week.


it was silent, mourning in your absence.


Sar hi ab phordiye nidamat mein
Neend aane lagi hai khalwat mein
Zindagi kis tarah basar hogi
Dil nahin lag raha mohabbat mein.
-Jaun Elia [The King of Sad Urdu Poetry]

Translation [By Nerbo] -
Go, bang your head, in guilt and remorse
You have begun to sleep, even when lonely.
How will this long life be spent at all
When no longer love appeals to me.

It is true, people live and die for love. A huge chunk of art is either protest or love. If you do not find burning cities in paintings, you find expressions of love. Even with nature, people tend to form romantic relationships and look at nature as a simulacrum of the female or male body. Some poets have called ‘love’ as necessary as bread. Some writers have pointed towards libido or sexual desire as the guiding force of life. Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, believes that a man does everything in his life, merely to get sexual ecstasy.

Freud’s theory falls apart when applied to an old man. Maybe, Freud is much more relevant in youth when literally the overwhelming power of sexual fantasies which give birth to desires engulf the mind and body. But I believe it is all a method of existence. In childhood, we love our parents because our demands are fulfilled by them. Slowly, as our body evolves and as our bodily demands increase which cannot be fulfilled by our home alone, we move out to seek partners for ourselves. High School and the beginning years of College, when a child gains his independence and becomes a Man are the most radical years of life. The worst decisions are made by teenagers in their late teens. They think too ill of their situations. They feel their houses are a prison. They feel every beautiful girl is a fairy and they feel that their parents do not understand them at all.

As teenage passes away, an era of insipid stupidities, an era of life’s force comes down. Either a person has already tasted the forbidden fruit of love or has been stung by rejection. Either way, his belief in this four-letter magical world soon fades away. He finds ‘love’ is not pleasurable in itself and any company, especially of a girl or boy who doesn’t stay with you physically all the time, cannot help them but only restrict their progress. A boy begins to feel frustrated with his huge time loss and inability to achieve or enjoy sexual pleasures, as he had thought he would. Soon, love becomes a drag, an unnecessary engagement that he carries on with him until he grows tired. Then, either he tries to get married and gets rejected, after having spoiled so great a part of his existence or gets actually married and ends up cursing himself as to why did he ever fall into this trap.

Those who never try or act as restraint and believe in their families, tend to turn out pretty biased husbands, in the sense that their first priority always remains their family. The wife has to bear patiently and carve her space into his husband’s life by pleasing his parents. Most girls fail to make this happen. Some girls act more cautiously and dominate the husband’s loyalty as soon as they are put with them. Some men, who have not tasted love ever in their lives fall for the coquettish traps laid down by their wives to capture them. Once they gain control over their husbands, then they begin to exploit this loyalty. Most marriages are therefore a battle of power over the husband’s loyalty.

Love becomes more and more dull, more tiresome and more fake with time. Social Media, especially Instagram, sells out reels to make people love-sick, they believe world is that happy box of cozy hugs and kisses, served day in and day out. That is not what Love is.

It is simply a mechanism of existence. There can never be love between a boy and a girl who is unmarried. Love is nothing but a synonym of Care. Society has deceitfully converted lust into love. A person cares for his family. A girl until and unless she is a part of the family, is never loved by a boy. The boy either doesn’t want to hurt her by abandoning her, or he doesn’t want to leave her high and dry after they both have made commitments. The girl doesn’t want to lose someone whom she believes she will be able to control after marriage. Most love marriages can reach the pedestal of marriage like this but once the cards of both sides are revealed, the couple begins to detest each other. The boy slowly begins to demand his autonomy in his life affairs and the girl begins to get frustrated by having lost her control over the boy. Sexual pleasures become flash episodes of joint smoking where both are unconscious of each other’s identity, but as soon as the experience is over, they get on each other’s nerves.

The best lot is the one who is rejected early on and spends the rest of their youth cursing the other gender and working on their own lives. It might sound misogynistic, but this is how it goes. Men who are rejected are the ones who make progress and end up becoming quite superior versions of themselves. By the time, they get better, they have reached the age of marriage, and so when they now step out to search a partner, they do not look for a Love Bird, they want a wife who can join them in their happiness, rather than pull out of depression as a lover.

Love, all in all, is a foolish phenomenon. Be honest, if you want sex, honestly think that this is what you want. Do not fake yourself. It is best at the time of youth to protect yourself against these idiotic tendencies. This world is very weird and it will get weirder as it goes on. Keep your mind stable. Either get married or get yourself into studies and move on quickly to your goals. Be clear in your head. Enjoy other aspects of life and live it to its full extent. Forget this stupidity called Love. It is an awful phenomenon.


Thats so well written. The words u used here reminds me of a book called " Subtle art of making a f**k " . There is a quote which I love in that book. I see your observation as a metaphor in that quote.

" The desire for positive experience ( Here love or lust ) is a negative experience ( Toxic relationships ). Acceptance of a negative experience ( rejection etc ) is a positive experience ( Self improvement ).


Quite a captivating piece. Would love to read your thoughts on infidelity.


Sure I will write about it. Infidelity, is a kind of othering and I have will have to read a little bit of Levinas first to answer it. Although I already know Edward Said and Robert J.C. Young but these are more concerned with a racial othering. So will reply soon. And let you know when I have written on it.



My childhood friend and I,
After years of having lived away
And gained nothing-
Having nothing to do,
Decided to meet at a point;
Where we could just sit and watch
Life, as it passes by.

I reached the spot before him,
Just in time to know,
That the evening mail that used to pass,
In the twilight of the setting sun
Blowing its horn and announcing,
The end of day, the dawn of night
No longer passes by to watch,
Life, as it passes by.

I reached the spot before my friend,
Just at that place to know,
That our favourite tree was uprooted,
Not by the nightmarish monsoon storm,
But by men to build there,
A showroom for clothes-
Expensive, Imported, Capitalist artefacts
To mock from behind the glass, the poor-
Life, as it passes by.

I reached the spot before my childhood partner,
Just at the same cafe to know,
That the uncle and aunt who owned it,
Have gone beyond the limits of the world
No longer, they shout at children
Who used to break the window panes
And make wickets at the wall of the cafe
No longer those wrinkled faces, toothless smiles
Shine like stars at budding flowers and watch
Life, as it passes by.

I reached the spot before my friend
And when I saw him coming, I nearly cried
He had grown taller, had beard too,
But all his freshness and hairs gone
His eyes sunk in an ocean of darkness
Signs of worry like stains of blood
Smeared his face and blurred his smile
I said to him, ‘You are growing old.’
He calmly said, ‘No, we’re just dying.’
The sun went down, and I could see,
Life, as it passes by.

I could not absorb, I could not accept
The pace of time, the pace of breath
How in the blink of an eye, it’s gone
How quickly we approach our death
We did not even begin to live,
And are being told that we will die,
We could not hug and feel, but watch,
Life, as it passes by.


Oh man thats deeps.

This post went from:

ab to ghabra ke ye kahte hain ki mar jaenge

mar ke bhi chain na paaya to kidhar jaenge.

To this:

Ab Us Muqam Par Mera Junoon Aajaye
Tujhe Jo Moo Se Pukaron Tou Khoon Aajaye


Mere kamre ka kya bayaan ki yahaa.n
Khoon thooka gaya shararat mein.
-Jaun Elia [When he got Tuberculosis out of the grief of having lost her wife, who left him because of his careless lifestyle, and a lover who died because he rejected her.]

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Not quite sure, but I guess this was Momin Khan Momin. One of the great masters of using contrast in his poetry.

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Why bro? Why do you think like that? Isn’t love beautiful? If this is because of some break up so its understandable but why make it general? I think love is the most beautiful and strange relationship. But the truth is todays generation have mixed love with lust, what do you think?

Woh Apna Janaza Khud Parhte Hain
Jinhein Mout Se Pehlay Mohabbat Maar Deti Hai

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I will have to write another post for this but for now. Give this thing a thought. I approve of love as a feeling but disapprove of love as a culture. What has been celebrated in art and media is the culture of love. Culture is constructed by the art surrounding that phenomenon. The feeling of love, on the other hand, is a very natural thing and is known in better terms as ‘care’. Love can arise between any two individuals and it is a product of trust and life-long commitment to somebody’s happiness not because of what someone is but because of how much the other person relents your absence. However, I might have to elaborate on this point, which I am likely to do soon. But just to let you know, I am not the first one speaking against love, there has been a debate in the Oxford Union on the myth of ‘love’. I will post the link, if you wish and you can go and watch it.

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You recommended a book to someone which was anit-love, whats the name again?

Kreutzer Sonata by Leo Tolstoy. It is a novella.

Here, you can go and read it for free. The beauty of Classics is that all the Gold is free for the taking. :smiley:

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