SHE ASKED ME ABOUT LOVE

A woman asked me in my moments of sadness,

Have you ever, O Naveed, fallen in love?

Looking up at her I could not help smiling,

Even though I was jolted like bolts from above.



It was a question which she repeated again,

And it was something I could not answer,

I could not even look at her for the tears

Filling in my eyes made me falter.



"Have you ever loved somebody?"

The question was shot at me once more,

I nodded my head without even knowing,

What that conveyed to her or to me.



She laughed and looked at me as if,

Wanting me to explain whether it was "Yes";

A volcano of untold emotions was hissing,

Inside my heart but she could not guess.



'You are so strange and mysterious'

She said so with her gaze fixed on me,

Couldn't she make out what was obvious,

My quiet silence and its still constancy.



But I don't blame her, she was quite young,

Very much in love with the notion of love,

To tell her what it all really means,

Would have been a bullet killing a dove.



So, left alone in my aloofness,

I did not want to tell her the truth:

That to love and be loved is like a flower's freshness,

And also a consumption which I dare not express.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Composed on September 23, 2002 after a dialogue with a poetess/colleague.

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palewingedpoetess's picture

where she questioned you
out of her ignorance
you I dare say
replied
from that butchered web
of your experience
is difficult eh to explain
such collage that is love
and all its pain
but we poets do try
and on nights such as these
when the silence in our souls
rushes loudest to our minds
that is only when
we find
we really have
no words in us to convey
I understand your podium
on this matter
perfectly
you sat
a monument
remembering
only
to itself
how beautiful is that?
well,
more beautiful than I,
a mere poet can say............
I loved this poem so much Naveed!