Sometimes I wonder how speechless things like this speechless matchstick scream and suffer to bring out the voice within. It reminds me of a couplet by John Elia, which says:
آپ اپنے سے ہم سخن رہنا
ہم نشیں سانس پھول جاتی ہے
I think existence is a matter of utter helplessness.
آپ اپنے سے ہم سخن رہنا
ہم نشیں سانس پھول جاتی ہے
I think existence is a matter of utter helplessness.