has been understood in the most misunderstood and correct manner,
Confusing is not the case but,
perhaps, the conundrum of feelings is the identity.
It appears in many forms,
it races to eternal death,
yet, mysteriously it resurfaces from nowhere,
to trouble you and appeals you to reconsider the purpose of life.
Somewhere beside the Ganges,
it may not drown itself,
it may take birth from ashes to gently make the fire immemorable,
it may sometimes be handicapped,
little dumb, with amputated leg,
and yet not get any sympathy from the society.
Blind as always the case,
yet it is impossible to get an eye donor to show love the real world.
It may die young, as it is difficult to upbring it,
it needs lots of motherly care,
which cannot be affordable to materialistic souls.
It used to have a fair mortality rate in ancient times,
before the advent of distractive machines.
Now, as is the case, a long life of love,
a silver jubilee, is something extraordinary.
extraordinary in a society where lawyers are profiting from the death of love.
Yet, poor souls of poets try to keep love alive,
if not in the heart of their beloved,
but, in the tales and poems,
As the poems become the museum of love,
the tragedies contain its fossils,
which are often visited by dead souls,
wandering for a drop of love in the soul of their beloved.
Sweet it is to think, love is bulletproof,
wonderful it is to think, it is timeproof,
every organisation today wishes to be as autonomous as love is.
Never had it fumbled listening to the loss of ownership of the soul of beloved,
rather, it has made a mark, to resurface as a fossil in poems.
Never had it drowned in its own tears,
but, inspiringly, it has grown stronger from its own tears.
It is not having a good reputation in the society, mysteriously,
perhaps, because, it has not been understood by many,
as, it is not all, eligible enough to encounter 'love',
it demands a great sense of spirituality,
a vast sacrifice from the materialistic giant world,
and a firm hold of determination of eternality.
Beauty is what it is for someone who has experienced,
mere feeling of love is divine,
nothing has ever been able to replace it.