Everything Opinion Poetry

The Book of Love

Love at first sight is a hoax.

A book doesn’t become our favourite just from its cover.
We read it’s preface and make our own assumptions.
Then we anticipate eagerly to find out how far our assumptions align with the reality.
Then slowly, tenderly, page by page, word by word we have to read through and discover…
We read a few lines and be lost in dreaming about it..and just hold the book close to our chest and hide in its warmth.
At other times we become so engrossed in reading that we forget about the rest of the world and become amazed every moment at the serendipity…

Same is with a person.
Same is how love happens.

Infatuation is a momentary development.
Love is a prolonged gradual process.
Infatuation paints dreams and fills our hearts with joys unknown, and push us into emotional turbulence…
But love, oh Love,
It is a habit, a comfort, a peace, a solace, a sound night’s sleep, a cup of hot chocolate in winter, a moonlit night beside a mountain river, the secret hiding place in the attic, something that once happens never gets old or boring.

There are books we read once and dare not open the second time because the love is so deeply etched that we’re afraid if we touch that again it’s charm will be lost.

And then there are books that become our comfort reads and stay with us, forever and ever.


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