HUMERA MEHBOOB

Somewhere between the first cry and the final sigh, we are all searching. Searching for meaning in murmurs, for answers in the empty, for home in the hearts that forget us. Why is it that we only understand beauty once it’s broken? Why must love always arrive after loss has taught us its language? Perhaps it is because we are not meant to own anything, not moments, not people, not peace, but only to pass through them gently, like wind through reeds.