once more the same thing – 2
You should watch love happening, affecting lives, coursing from tunnel to tunnel through hearts of one person to another, and finally settling down to dust in the deepest of pits canopied by desires, and hopes. And when it falls on someone close to you, it works mysteriously, like a miracle, imparting more to you than to the person actually involved. Then and then only you discover what love actually is. Unless you find someone in pain, you can not understand pain yourself. Did someone say love is contagious? Yes it is. And so is pain.
Pain is love.
“No. Love is pain.” He shifted his face back to moon shining with feeble lights, showing off only half of what it actually had, rest half was probably saved for another day when after the monsoon the clouds wouldn’t be shadowing it, when it would be free to roam around in the sky, with no dread of clouds. The lights reflecting on his face, which already had gone little pale with pain and perspiration of the fight he was so confused about – to take on or to ignore and move on as if he didn’t see anything, as if nothing of significance had happened, as if he didn’t feel the turmoil, the predicament his heart was so thoroughly carrying, shattering the basest of his being, and to accept a fate of the un-forgiven.
Rather, indeed, love is pain.
“Waiting is a dead end. Moreover, what are you waiting for? For her to come to you, or for situations to turn in favor of you…what?” I tried to ignite what lay so dormant inside him, and the desire that was becoming so intense with each passing day, but the moon had another effect on him then for he kept himself fixed at it, rather at the weakness of it. A soul finds a soul. A pain finds a pain. Oh damn these metaphors! But they work as twins sometimes…ah! He was blank. Blank like a white paper, and a pen beside, scared to ink, scared to write. I tried reading him, but could read only the moon shining in the sky, and back on his face.
“I am not waiting.”
“So you are scared of making a decision?”
“I am scared of myself. I can’t trust myself. I am just too…” He trailed off.
“You love her?”
He didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure of it, that’s the first thing men confront in love.