Maktub

The worst thing which can happen to you while bidding farewell to your love is when you receive a kiss.

This kiss now takes you through a journey of crests & troughs of the relationship you've had.

A kiss meant to celebrate that it was worth being together but it's sad we couldn't continue it further.

With this kiss, you forget who you are and what you were.

You're not together now but somewhere, are connected.

But that doesn't concern me. What concerns me is that what was the fault of lips? Why they had to bear the burden and attend this parting which is no less than a funeral?

Why they're chosen as a tool or instrument for celebrating the love which these two 'lovers' had? Why these fragile lips?

It didn't start with lips. So why they should bear the burden of parting?

Blame the eyes. Blame the heart. Blame the weather. Blame the poets.

Blame your fate that you're not born blind else who would have fallen for the beauty of your 'love' if you didn't have those 'eyes. It was love at first 'sight', wasn't it?

Blame the heart for allowing the temptation to fall in love with the 'love'.

Blame the weather for conspiring to add that charm, that warmth and pleasantness.

Blame the poets for glorifying love.

But all you do is that you hand over the responsibility and the onus to end this love on this note to these fragile, soft, and innocent lips!

And the moment you separate the interlock of your and your lovers' lips, you realize that you've just witnessed the electricity which you observe when a two live wires meet.

Those tiny remnants of both of your saliva are a testimony of remnants of your relationship, the unaddressed and unaccounted accounts. Something is left unconsoled, you notice it when the breath communicates that both of your lips want to entangle themselves again just like a DNA strand, one over the other, the other over the one.

And finally, you summon yourself but lips are lips.

Told you they're innocent.

They don't know how to hide.

Those dampened and quivering lips narrate the story of the separation.

Now they analyse and compare previous burdens, the portion of guilt which they had to bear in the past and will bear it once again.

But the separation is unlike Bollywood, no hands are shown with the histrionic and choreographed slow-motion of the departure.

No eyes are wet. None is shedding tears.

But something, somewhere deep within has changed and you make yourself believe once again that 'I can't fall in love now'.

However, a day comes when a tornado meets a volcano once again. Someone enters just like someone left last time and things are upside down again.

It makes me wonder what is a relationship except a lie to be together until the very end.

Here 'End' arrives too soon.

And love, what's that?

Oh, that reminds me to introduce a word here for you, Maktub.

Source: Unknown