Whenever Dorothy comes across scorching heat, he provides a cover. She knows he cares for her, he is always present like a shadow. She wants to reveal her feelings to him and is bewildered if he will reciprocate or not. While his eyes glitter when he sees her, his lips never release the magic words she is waiting for. One day, she musters up the courage to let him know how she feels.
“Even my soul is in love with you.”, exclaims Dorthy.
He ponders before replying,
“I know you but I don’t know your soul. I have never seen it. Leave the business of spirits to angels. Let cardiologists handle affairs of the heart. I know and adore your eyes, your hair, your lips. What business do I have with your soul? Even you yourself have no control over it, it is a fleeting entity. It can depart any time it likes.”
He keeps pouring words of the sort but she no longer listens. She leaves the room abashed, regretting her admission to him. Before you reach the destination of yes or no, there is a courtyard of hope. But Dorothy has crossed that and has entered an alley of uncertainty and unease. Walking away she bites her under lip, in an attempt to control the tears of discomfort that irrigate her eyes. When a girl's tear falls from her eyes and crosses the cheek, it has already travelled miles. The wet eyes shake skies, a tear tears hearts and mines minds.
A hurt person does not need much to injure others, especially those who are near and dear. So does David. He is with Dorothy but his heart is stuck in the past. When the fears of the past start residing with you in the present, you will always do injustice to your future. You would be passing through today without living through it. Yes there is a fool’s paradise, but remember, there is a hell for them too.
David fails to understand the sincerity of Dorothy’s words and he denies his own heart to beat again to the tune of love. In the whirlpool of dialogues truth drowns. Emotional phrases blind our intellect. The path of sweet talks leads to a ditch of sorrow. Love is a great emotional state of mind but it mostly dims in time. What is left in the end is a horrible era of abuse and refuses. A lot of us fall in love, a few know the etiquettes of separation.
Had Nicole left him like true friends do, the world would be different for David. He had loved her and he had to pay a painful toll on that relationship. He is a fellow with a great loving nature but had fallen prey to it earlier. Earlier, he has seen his childhood friendships drown in the lake of self interest. His siblings quarreled over grandma's property while she was on her deathbed. The more, he grew the more he saw innocent passions like benevolence, friendship and love yield to avarice. He has locked his emotional self behind the door of silence and calm.
Now Dorothy was rattling the keys of endearment to open his closed heart. Though he was resisting, his heart was inclined. Things were escalating from mere liking to love. He did not want to walk on the thorny path of passion again, but who can ask the heart not to beat?
Only clouds can quench the thirst of soil. Only the air brings showers to the turf. Only plants would produce food from dust. Only the flowers can convert water into fragrance. Only she is a panacea to the pain of his heart.
She leaves the room and part of him follows her. His heart wants to beat with hers but the scared part of him abstains. What a stage of divide. What a split of no and yes. What a polycephalic state of mind. His heart is pumping to a rhythm that no cardiologist can cure. His soul is restless to a cause that no angel comprehends.
“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
Rumi
Once the virus of love infiltrates you, it won’t leave you alone. Its first victim will be your defenses against it. It will erode all thoughts that refrain you from falling in love. Eventually eradicating entire anti-love elements from rationality. Just a few hiccups and you will be repeating the three holy words.
“I love you.”
Credits
By
Ahsan Jamil
Golfer, Author, Poet, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Wanderer
Email: Golfaij.com
Website: Golfaij.com