“They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.”
William Shakespeare.
Love’s ways are hard and steep, but follow it when it beckons to you. The sword hidden among its pinions may wound you, but yield to it when its wings enfold you. Its voice may shatter your dreams, but believe it when it speaks to you.
Melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. Know the pain of tenderness and be wounded by your own understanding of love.
Bleed willingly and joyfully.
Wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks to another day of loving.
Rest and meditate love’s ecstasy, sleep with a prayer for your beloved in your heart, and live your love once again.
When I sit down to write about love, more than ever in life, I feel the futility of words.
It seems ages now that words have faded into oblivion and transformed into images, images which speak of love, a love whose divinity has surfaced every other thing, a love which has transpired silence; a profound silence which delves deep into the existence of the world and gives life to this universe.
We are the treasured children of Almighty- He created us for love, for tenderness and soothing, for benevolence and anodyne. We were born together and together we shall be evermore. Together we shall be when the white wings of death scatter our days. Together we shall be in the silent memory of the Lord.
The wings of heaven will blow for us and the stars and constellations will dance between us.
It’s the beginning of a new earth; a new world has born with the birth of a love- so profound, so kosher, a love whose existence gives life to this age-old universe...
8 comments:
so so true, and what a flow of words debarati, u r simply mindblowing!!!!!!!!
Thanks Butun.
The signature style of yours to render poesy wrapped in intelligence, studded with glistering words, and presented with gape-deserving poignancy. Excellent didi ! I so love it!
Chandreyi: What do you think is my signature style?
As an atheist, I invariably miss the spiritual part of this particular post.But that is entirely a different issue. I would like to say one thing though, that love is actually a very simple thing,simple as a child's saliva.Only lovers make it inordinately complicated at times.It is them and their observers who glorify it, malign it and tell tales of it.Tales of yearning, sacrifice,tolerance,animosity,gore and splendour, all in the name of love.It is a simple thing actually and simple things are often not so simply construed.
Sanmay da, I agree with you to a certain extent. This post actually glorifies love; love which is not just restrained within the confines of lovers. My concept of love here is much beyond that- it envelops everything around, from a modicum of sand to a water drop in the ocean. Its widespread. And even though, "love is as simple as the saliva of a child", it can't be stopped from being glorified, can it? In fact, agreeing with you on the same point, I find a greater reason to venerate and put it on a pedestal. It's unfathomable, because my post here talks of the inherent love deeply embedded in the heart of any person.
I have just tried to explain what I feel when I sit on a lonely sea-beach, when I feel Zen-like disconnections from the realities of life, when impatience, anxiety, angst don't plague me anymore, when stars whisper secret words through the black skin of the sky.... I feel so full of love, everything else seems to dissipate. If this sounds impractical, then I am and I enjoy being so at times. It gives me peace and an immense joy that can't be described in words.
Glorify love to your heart's content. If you feel full of love then you are a very lucky person, and impracticality has nothing to do with it. Being full of love and being a fool in love are two very different things.While the former can bring you the inner peace you strive for, the latter often flirts with rank impracticality. :-)
didi, your creations have got a classic touch. Many of them feel to be penned with the heart of an early 20th century born writer. Yours are not quintessentially glossy as the contemporary ones are supposed to be in terms of the word-usage, since you're a zealous 'pristine' word user. Reading you is like being able to sense the ambiance of an old England, very much close to that, that Jane Austen speaks of, or might be it's how I envisage the country to have been like as I read her. There’s a whiff of cigar smoke, there’s warmth of a fire place, people speak there in a low tone, chinks are heard of wine glasses. And I feel to be sitting amid these as I read you
..“Melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. Know the pain of tenderness and be wounded by your own understanding of love.”..
That’s what your style is, your signature is.
Post a Comment