The only thing sure about Love is-you'll fall again!

She found him in the flocking milieu, a face in the crowd yet one in millions. Their eyes embraced each other clinching, even before the rest of their senses could fathom why every pore in their being was joggled beyond restrain. The dance of passion was set in motion as their steps coordinated and love induced nimble bodies waltzed onto a nameless music. The accord emanating from each movement, the amalgam radiating with every posture! The intertwining of limbs not proof enough of how in their minds they were clung and wrapped.

The music played on and they did too till the beats became recurring, the sound seemed proverbial and the harmony predictable. The fervent steps were no longer animated and began to get weary and slowed down. They held on unyielding, not letting the fading music come between them, as though by being indifferent they could be oblivious.

Soon the moving record lost the rhythm and drew closer to a standstill. They did not budge, hung-over on the synchrony they had so reached. Doesn’t happen every day-two feet knowing exactly where the other is headed so as to stride along and not be directed by the other. So the drowning someone held on to the straw till the spot lights were shut off and darkness enveloped them. It was time to go-the centre stage, hitherto their field, suddenly seemed too vast and deserted-hauntingly mocking at the lonesome twosome to leave.

They parted and moved on. Faces going back to being faces in the crowd! They tried to call out and reach with an extended hand but perhaps the spaces in between became too big, too far. The unmitigated fire was now just a few simmering sparks before the coal pieces were charred to nothingness. But before the thwarted hand could reach back somebody held it tenderly and a warm prologue followed. A new overture, a beckoning gaze an unknown domain, was it time to play again?

But weren’t you burning? The scars of the one who left-weren’t the wounds open? Yes, they were but the stranger brought a balm of sweet whispers that echoed and stirred the insides again to soothe them. The hands held in a friendly grasp soon became a firm clasp, like little children laughing, engrossing and tumbling over each other while building sand castles on the sea side.

Yes, this was forever. The breeze playing impishly with their hair, the waves softly splashing a cooling wetness and awakening new-fangled desires, the hot skin gearing to burn with sensations that came without being touched. Was it love? Drenched in the sunlight, it seemed to have dispelled the darkness-the little castle they built vouched for things to come-a future together. Yes, we’ve found the one. And while he dusted the sand off her glistening body, they were ready for an encore.

How sweet was love again! How unimaginable the sense, it left the hungry body with! How charged it made one of a passion that can engulf all reason and pragmatism-knowing only surrender and wanting only completion! The love boat had found the anchor-the storms were at rest, the resistance failed at the test. Surely the bodies gave in, too overpowering-the thrill of the novel, the curiosity of the mysterious and the satiation of being lost in a utopia of stirred sentiments.

Till the waves grew tired of being placid and the breeze could not contain being stationary no more. The sand castle that stood sturdy slowly began to quiver as the agitated and restless grains decided to change paths again or go back to their origin. And the water that was wetting till now, took the form of an awakening-a rude splash begetting them back to reality.

The heat of the sun threatened to tan, the waves came too ominously to break upon the unfaultable shore and the rains followed. The castle was now a sloshed mass of nothingness as they rushed in to seek shelter. Relegating to different and distant corners, perhaps one took to dry up too long, perhaps the other wanted to remain wet, the seeking eyes didn’t get the glimpse they craved for and tears welled. Ah, the pain of seeing something gradually relegate to a backdrop which had instantly formed your fore and core! Another broken heart-would it not tear you apart?

And just then someone extended a piece of cloth-tears are not enough to do away the pain. Perhaps brushing them away with a handkerchief would? You look up-a beaming face, a concerned voice, a gentle pat and a fascinated someone-it was time to try to smile once more. Perhaps what was the end was really the commencement-THE beginning? Enough of stories that have a beginning and no middle and then an end!

The only thing sure about love is-that you will fall again!