..first love..

..they say you'll never forget your first love..but then, do you really know which one is the first? ..maybe it is just puppies..for the heart is not like that flower that blooms once only to wither and die..it is able to enjoy a myriad of blooms..with different shades and hues..each one is a first..for the heart is the garden..and love is the flower...

..and if there is a first love..it follows that there is a second, third or fourth..so what happened if your marry your first...and later you had your second love..?..and the second turns out to be better than the first?...as it invariably will..we cannot simply jump ship..even if we were to drop anchor at the same port..there's excise and baggage to think about..

..then it is better to marry your second love..and let that sweet, poignant, syrupy first love adrift..untethered...into the misty sea of your memory...and hoped that there will never be a third..but who are we to foretell the uncharted seas of the future?..your third could be waiting behind a raft...and you are way past...

...he could see the henna stain on her hands..he tried to steal a glance at her feet..but she saw the glance and tried to hide them under the chair. But her movement revealed the stains and he smiled as her mother welcomed him..

..she was trying to say thank you but the words would not come..instead she shed a tear, silently, allowing the solitary tear to furrow her cheek..earlier she had pleaded for his presence..'See me as a bride as I see you as a friend.' ...he agreed, surprised at her eloquence...