Of being inside a circle in a circus called love — or its subset called life.

The first thing that Rose did after getting news from Dionysus — of that-inebriated-fellow’s heart racing so fast that it stopped — was to open his cigarette box. The moment she took the cigarettes out of the box, one after another, and was staring at them, the moon too was gawking at her from the space in-between two curtains. On each cigarette, there was a cross.

Staring at the cross, Rose went back to reflect on the time gone by — a shadow that she thought had weakened over time. But, had it become faint or had it still the force to control her life? The reckless time of young and fresh love — the soft innocent kisses and the tender hugs. She distinctly rembered how foolishly were they in love with each other. This time-travel brought a little smile on her face — a smile with its etymology in an unknown void — a void with prickles of unanswered questions. Puffing one of his cigarettes, she got up to make some coffee. With the coffee and cigarette, she starting asking herself hurtful questions — the usual ‘what if’ ones.

One fine day, when they were not-so-together, they had a heart to heart with each other to realise they can’t be together. And Rose’s chain-of-thoughts had crash-landed her straight into this moment of abyss. On that day of realisation — there was first an eerie silence in the room followed by that-inebriated-fellow’s broken voice. The vividness with which this episode was coming alive in front of Rose, she was drowning deep and fast in the mess. With a hushed voice — he had pushed out these fragmented words — you know I’ll die waiting for you but I won’t trouble you, I shall seal the corners of my heart and lips. And in that fucking moment — Saturn had cracked and the moon was going to crush her anytime by the mass of love alone.

Love — is just a four-letter word — but how much weight does it have? After all calculations, what is the total sum of it? Nil or infinite — but what exactly are both of them — valued or not valued? Is it about sacrifices or empathy? When does empathy become sacrifice? Is it about what you read in books — spiritual connect, soulmate, longing etc etc — or do we find it in the music we hear? But you know, what Rose felt for him after he left abode was something beyond definitions — something unknown — something unanswerable. It couldn’t have contours. Those intense dreams were the questions themselves which she had to fall in love with. Did she have an other way — an answer — the answer — she wondered.