And I wrote, during conversation, about ‘A soft blow of grief’. Yes, it was real soft there was no lie about it. It was smooth like fluffy pillow and precious like pearl. It was indeed something out of the world. Her words about love impressed me so much that I felt, I should also write about it and so I wrote ‘It was not either money riding on a horse or some dead cat upon a dog. It was Love. Love…’ because love has always seem as a game of cat and dog. Sometimes, it seems as if it is a lust for money. But, believe me it was not about this thirst only, it was something out of the world… something ridiculous yet heavenly. Sometimes, it looked as if angels are hovering hover but then ‘A tweak in heart’ occurred and so I wrote, ‘It was not heaven, not even an angel. Neither sea nor any jewel. Something, like coarse rocks. Something, like melting gold’. Love is a field of study in which every human gets degree before their birth. After birth they pursue their profession in Love. They make relations. Try to steal hearts. Smack it down. Bring tears. So the heart asked, what does make a person love another person? And not the heart but the mind replied, it is ‘a single word of passion’. Ha, really! ‘you mean a single word, a weak, little, thin and meager word?’ that was exactly what I said. A word of passion is a sip of poison. So, ‘be not joyful/ For the poison I’ve sipped/ An acid –/ Of love –/ Of love indeed…’ See, it is something more than a word, something like ‘crashed soul’. Thus, ‘In fear I ran towards dusk/ The darkness came to capture/ But surrendered…/ For my pain was darker/ than the darkness’. The poor and the landlord, everyone was suffering from the disease of Love. On earth, the Love become infectious and so people started to misuse it. To treat it with disrespect and funny jokes. Now, love do not remained the same, tears roll down my cheeks, ‘ink rushes out of pen’ and so I wrote, ‘You are not the same to whom/ I loved once as my tears broom/ You have make me guilt/ On the pride that I had once in you’. Now, I have left everything to my Lord because still after times I wish, May Lord Listen and ‘let the child do what he desires’. May He ‘Listen to them once at night…’ and ‘…look at the heart that have been put upon words, such enchanted enthralled whisper that holds their breath’.

Maha Mujeeb for Beyond Sanity Publishing

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