Wed, 19 Jun, 2024


To the Love that Was Mine.


By Maunta Rani Gautam

 Love is imperfect. Love comes bumbling to your footsteps. Looks at you with the most innocent face. Like a baby comes with stumbling steps big eyes and a startled face. With a desire to find and match the insanity of yours. With the dream to find the missing pieces of itself. Just like the one you have been waiting for. Love questions you, love looks at you for hours and love sleeps a lot! 
 And For you, it's new because love wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't supposed to sound so dumb. Rather music should have played on the background. He should have looked at you and talked about life. Talked about the things you have confusion on. Instead, you find yourself talking nonsense and rather complicating your confusion. You see yourself turning the wall down and expanding your horizons of feeling and intimacy. But that sucks!  Because hey it's you, how can your love be so cliche How can your love be this weird? 
Your brain functions and tell you this love to be not worthy. Reminds you to stay tight on the cliff and not be stupid enough to fall down. Tells you all the wrong and consequences of this beautiful feeling. and on the other hand, The wicked cupid smiles and gives you one reason to jump off. On this war of brain and heart. You secretly choose your heart and blame the brain for not being strong enough. In this secret biased fight of yours, you always want your soul to choose the forbidden one. Hence your logical board crashes and you take off without wearing a parachute and wings. 
And this love yours completes you. Make you believe in weird fairy tales. Starts to create your own version of fairy tales. Fairy tales where there is no prince and princess rather two common opposite people who are doing just fine in love. Two people who are struggling to find the way out of the maze they created. 

And As you go from your honeymoon period to a living reality check, you start to notice bits and whispers of how sinful your love. is How your love is always scorned by society. Your love slowly evolves to be the thrones of your life. Meetings get sneakier, Conversation gets tougher and love it cries as it goes cold and screams for warmth. Because love is a block of fragile ice that longs for warmth to living on.

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