A Prose of Love

One day a boy and girl were walking on the beach. And as they walked they were holding hands, actually clasping hands. They were just leisurely walking not talking to each other but their bodies were moving in perfect rhythm, their steps in single cadence and their hands swayed in harmony, their eyes and minds in a dreamland. They continued walking on the seemingly endless stretch of sands unmindful of the heat of the sun and the pounding surging tides and the shouts and the laughter and the chatters of the crowds and the bays of the beasts and the chirps of the birds and the whatever and the whichever around and along the beach. they continued walking without talking; they were dreaming the day.



As the evening shadows came they stopped walking and sat on the sand and started to chat. Then the boy looked up and started counting, one, two, three . . . the girl interrupted him and asked him, “What are you doing?”

Boy: I’m counting the stars
Girl: Why?
Boy: That’s how many times I love you!
Girl: You cannot count all the stars!
Boy: Right, I love you in a countless ways and if it takes me forever to count the stars, forever my love for you will be!

The girl squeezed the hand of the boy, then scooped a handful of sands and started counting, “Five, ten, fifteen . . .” The boy interrupted her and asked “What are you doing?”

Girl: I’m counting the sands! And as many sands are there in the whole world that’s how far and how long I will love you!
Boy: It will take more than a life time to even count a portion of the sands in this beach alone.
Girl: Even death will not stop me counting my love for you!

The boy hugged the girl tightly. They looked at each other and they were both amazed at their vows of perfect love. The boy continued counting the stars; the girl went on counting the sands. They fell asleep.

They were dreaming the same dreams together. They were floating in the air, suspended in space somewhere between the stars and the sands. Holding hands they flew around leisurely alternately looking at the stars and the sands.

philosophy of love, true love, mystery of love, stupidity of love, love in Hell, mystery of lovOne day a boy and girl were walking on the beach. And as they walked they were holding hands, actually clasping hands. They were just leisurely walking not talking to each other but their bodies were moving in perfect rhythm, their steps in single cadence and their hands swayed in harmony, their eyes and minds in a dreamland. They continued walking on the seemingly endless stretch of sands unmindful of the heat of the sun and the pounding surging tides and the shouts and the laughter and the chatters of the crowds and the bays of the beasts and the chirps of the birds and the whatever and the whichever around and along the beach. they continued walking without talking; they were dreaming the day.