….tears, tissues and tragedy
It is a few days to the beginning of the second month of the year and the once carefree Muslimah that was happy being unattached now sulks around, downturned face as none of her male mxit contacts have claimed undying love for her yet and the clock was ticking faster to the day of celebration. On the other side of the screen, the innocent looking Muslim boy spurts sweet nothing to every other female in hope of having one or maybe a few to call “His One” for that day.
Taking a step outside, one would feel as if they have adorned rose tinted glasses as the world looks as if it has been repainted in a blood red hue. Every tree seems to be blossoming plastic hearts, and tacky gifts seem to be more precious than jewels. One would not be wrong to assume that Cupid has struck the entire world with his arrow, from all the love struck couples that seem to surface at this period.
The commercial world which is always ahead of the mood of the consumer, add to the atmosphere with their romantic gifts, cards with lines that would make Shakespeare look like nursery rhymes and roses the price of an entire garden.
Looking through the chronicles of history one sees pages dedicated to the lovers of bygone days. Flipping open ones sees the legend of Romeo and Juliet’s two day love story, a few pages down and the tale of the unattainable love of Layla and Majnu is remembered. Flipping a few pages, one is reminded of the love story of Tristan and Isoldey and Anthony and Cleopatra and further on the romance of Pyramus and Thisbe is retold. As the book reaches an end, last but far from the least the love of Salim and Anarkali who was entombed alive is repeated. Saint Valentine the Christian priest who died for Love is honoured just as he is on this day. Each tale of love seems to hold a central of tragedy and a loss of love before it is even enjoyed.
