Come February

It's February.

Rather than celebrating love, courtesy my ineligibility, I intend to use this month to wing different pigeons of love on to their flights of fantasy.

It’s interesting to notice that love as a verb has so many different meaning and dimensions, as in one could love one's parents, or a view , or a movie or may be some stuff: but as a noun, it has just one meaning and only one dimension....you got it.

Most of us are love struck, may be genetically.

We tend to, or may be insist to view things through the colored and thin film of love, and many a times we zoom a little too much and adjust the lens so much that we often miss the mark.

Be it concoction of situation or circumstance, the attire, even the probable (read proposed) conduct and conversation is also not spared....everything is like documented...but by natures law....most things which happen in life are not planned.

It originally begins when the silence before the sleep descends, the lights go dim, eyes are closed but one can see everything clear, all these variants working together in tandem, co-ordinate to paint the most divine picture. This is the point in time when one actually cajoles a name, just a name, into a fully fledged epic. It is noteworthy how, with each carefully woven stitch the whole design is crafted with the most vibrant hues and strokes the night is slumbered away.

And then you carry the delicate crystal, all in your eyes, and in your walk is the purpose, wanting it to happen, it’s all well only till one gets into the designed set up, and then it all falls apart, and one can’t even collect the pieces. Honestly it’s not that painful as much it appears, not because it doesn’t hurt, but simply because one gets used to it……one does it so many times…..over and over….!