There are days and moments when everything around you, everyone around you, looks beautiful. Simply beautiful. Just like coming out of an air-conditioned room after hours and finally feeling the warmth's gentle touch. When paper flowers no longer excite you like real flowers.
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To love is to surrender. To let them be, to feel the intensity and reflection of my love in them."
I saw love transcending in her eyes as she looked at me.
"To love is to be vulnerable," I replied. "To let it destroy you and then be revived."
And in this moment, in her eyes, I saw our shared understanding of love.
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Sit under the first droplet of rain, and you'll know what relief is.
Sit alone, letting the wind buffet your face, and you'll understand what strength is.
Sit under the vast sky, alone with your thoughts, and you'll discover what wonderful company you are.
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Look, watch how night gives way to day while we humans are in deep slumber or intoxicated, perhaps trying to escape the darkness. Or maybe we're lost in the cosmic play of nature that we can never fully understand.
That's how night envelops us, wrapped in thick darkness that we try to illuminate with various shapes and sizes of light, yet we chase the light. In all this, night never forgets the light, and the light never forgets to sweep in.
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That iron gate, with faded white paint covered in patches of brown rust, resembles the way wrinkles slowly appear on skin at different parts of the body. When someone tries to open it, the gate wails in pain, as if bearing the weight of years. It's surrounded by lush pink gulmohar flowers hanging above and wildflowers and creepers wrapped around it. There's beauty in growing old, as if the gate itself is trying to say. The gate and passage seem abandoned for years, or perhaps they're waiting for someone. But what if those we've been waiting for never arrive? Yet, you see the beauty it has acquired with age, waiting with faith. Faith either transforms you for the better, making you wiser, or leaves you lonely for life.
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The uncertainty.
The unsure.
The Maybes
are never for me,
Dear lovely May days.
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The softest smile, a warm hug, a warm touch, the kindest gesture, safe company, listening with genuine attention, coming for chai with you just for the sake of company... These tiny yet safest moments that often get unnoticed in the tides of life. Or perhaps we have taken life too seriously.
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