Loving Him

Source: Unknown

Loving him,

is like loving a child and his jolly, childish game of ringing the neighbour's doorbell and running away. He, the child, would always run away before you opened the door. You would wait at the doorstep but he would never again come back.

Loving him is like loving that one photograph of yours in someone else's album. You know that's beautiful, you know that's just yours, but you would never again see it. He, like the photograph, belongs to you no more.

Loving him is like loving the pattering rain, the drops of which batter the window and ooze in from crevices; but realising that the pattering is of the overflowing water tank. You love him, the illusionary rain, despite being deceived time and again.

Loving him is like loving the Sun, the way a sunflower does. You turn to him even if he turns away. You colour yourself in his hue. You sink in gloom when he sets. He, the Sun, loves running away. You, the sunflower, wait for the night to end.

Loving him is like loving the levanter that kissed your eyes one night and left.

Loving him is like loving the dandelions that would disperse away the next morning.

Loving him is like loving the melting candle; the wax of his memories will stick to your heart.

Loving him is like loving the vagabond who would wave you a goodbye, just a moment before you ask him to stay forever.

‘Love’,

and ‘loving him’

is a double whammy,

the twin mystery,

that you've tried solving

and of late, failed.

- By Aditi Dubey

B.A. (Hons.) History

(Edited by Mansha and Pallavi

Art curated by Pallavi)