Happy Valentine’s Day for all my readers and their beloved ones. Here is a short story about Love. Read it aloud, if you wish, to your beloved one.
|Image Courtesy: The Hindu.com|
A DROP OF LOVE
A dewdrop found itself resting on the petal of a rose. That was the only memory the drop had. It was born there, separated from a cloud of fog.
The dewdrop felt happy to be there.
There was something that lured the drop towards the heart of the flower; a pull, since the petal was sloppy.
The dewdrop felt its destiny already marked out.
It said to the rose, “What would happen if I slid into your heart?”
The flower looked at the drop. There was a peculiar grace to the dewdrop. The sun was sharing its gleam with its crystal soul.
The flower fell in love with the dewdrop, at once. “I will…” the flower blushed, “I will receive you into my soul and transform you into honey.” It said.
The dewdrop could not decide what to choose. The company of the flower was mesmerizing. Its fragrance was unique. But what it said was dubious. The flower said it will transform the dewdrop into honey. ‘What is honey?’ The dewdrop thought. ‘Would it mean I have to disappear? Whom shall I ask?’
Then, as if the thought of the dewdrop came to life, a sweet little humming was heard. The flower and the plant danced with slight tremor. The drop did not see anyone. But there came a question; “Who are you looking for?”
“Who are you?” The dewdrop returned. It was a surprise that still there was no one in sight.
“I am the breeze.” Said the voice, still invisible.
“Why are you invisible?” asked the drop.
“This is how I am, if you are born with your guileless soul, I am born with the cloak of invisibility.”
“Can you help me?” asked the dewdrop.
“Sure, tell me how.”
“The flower asked me to come inside her bosom, and she would transform me into honey. I do not know what to do. Is she telling the truth? If I drop out of the petal, I will fall down into hell. What shall I do?” the voice of the dewdrop was sad when it said this.
There was silence for the next moment. Then the breeze said; “Down below, there is the earth, not hell. However, you have another choice; you can contemplate the sun and when its rays are powerful enough they will lift you up to the heavens and take you back to the place where you were born.”
“Am I not born here?” the Dewdrop asked.
“No, you are taken here, from the sky. The sky is your birthplace.”
“Then I do not want to go back,” said the dewdrop, “I want to live and experience the most beautiful thing in life. How can I do it, Breeze? Can you guide me please?” When it said it, the dewdrop's soul took a ray from the sun and reflected it in a thousand colours.
|Image Courtesy: Google|
“I will help you,” said the breeze.
The dewdrop felt the tremor once again, this time much powerful; and it felt itself gliding down, slowly. Before the next moment, the dewdrop embraced the heart of the flower. There was a trail of chill left on the petal. The flower smiled at the dewdrop and the dewdrop felt happy at the touch of love. It didn’t ask anything else, for by then it knew everything there was to know.
___taken from Wall of Colours and Other Stories.
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