The winter evening, I was sitting by the side of lake. I just completed perusing a love story, and lost in myself. I was thinking of the questions never answered by any author, writer or philosopher, running my mind over those was the only leisure I found at the instant. My imagination was on its peak with thousands of complex thoughts convoluting and mixing to a single stream like a whirlpool.
A small girl came by my side and sat beside me. She was pretty and came smiling. I smiled back.
“What’s that in your hand?” She asked.
“It’s the world’s best love story.” My answer.
“World’s best love story?” She smirked.
“Yeah! Indeed it is, I mean what could be the best than two souls unite to hold their hands, for infinite lives, promising to meet in every incarnation; this is what we call a TRUE LOVE”
I was very enthusiastic while answering her.
She smiled and became serious “Would you answer me one thing”
“Yeah Sure” I said with an overwhelming emotion.
“What is this TRUE LOVE means?” She looked into my eyes anticipating an answer. She is sweeter than she seems.
“True Love means…” I paused. Although I know the answer but I was stopped by my instinct. I’ve seen many movies, read many books, but none of them showed me the exact meaning of what true love is? Is true love means being apart and still waiting to become one? Is it crying for each other in solitude? Or Dieing in each other’s arms?
I scoured my brain for the words so that I can explain the little angel, but I found none. My discretion is making me more puzzled as I dwelled it into the prompt. I was awake but my conscience was unresponsive. Sometimes I kept nudging myself upon the complex topics for which sooner or later I settle down for an answer, but this was the question I was feeling that can never make me worthy enough to answer.
Every relation needs commitment, so love is. But true love? It is undefined. Do we commit because we love or we love because we commit? Everything around my brain is twirling. And what about understanding? Is it necessary? Or We’r made to understand because we love. Is there anything like confession in true love?
I was silent on this account of reality check. Wind is flowing to cool my head, and I was feeling nausea. She was still gazing at my face with eagerness, and I was losing the precision. I found myself unable to utter a single word from my throttling mouth. The minute I was silent she perused my brain and held my hand. Hers was warm.
“Love isn’t about describing in heavy words or showing a plastic care, it’s the same feeling of the two hearts” She self answered her question, pressing my fist with hers.
She stood “Recall the moment you were silent and you’ll realize what true love is” She spoke her last words and walked away. I saw her disappear in the fog.
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