Rumi once said ” Someone who does not run towards the allure of love walks a road where nothing lives.” I am sharing this in honour of my First Love.
I carried his name within me for so long. In my back pocket, under the pillows of my bed and in between the lines of unfinished poems…
We sat a lot, on couches, the floor, the grass, in between my father’s school books. We walked even more – from my house to his, the longest route possible, from the kitchen to the backyard, around people cooking, screaming, arguing. And there was something about his voice…how it twisted itself around consonants and vowels. Delicately he anchored them so I could listen, understand. We were our own planet and he was my first step into the confusing world of love.I don’t remember how it ended or why but being loved by him taught me something I kept forgetting as I got older. Love is fueled by sharing. You open your mouth, your world, and pour the big, inconsequential and banal things out of your heart and into theirs.
