Bismillahi Rahmaanir Rahiim...
A flower has five petals..
Count with me...
1...
2...
3...
4...
5...
Remember that day when we were counting flower petals with our mom? We were young then, we didn't know much about life. Life then was just a dream to us, filled with hopes and dreams... and the people who love us...
Love..
It's an excruciatingly painful thing, yet mysteriously relieving.
No one has had the right definition towards the word love or whether it exists. I guess I'm just another one of those individuals. But I can tell you one thing about love...
The one being loved is like a flower. Both fragile and beautiful. My grandmother once told me that if you like a single flower than don't pick it. If you do it'll wilt and die. Than it won't be as beautiful anymore and you'd have to throw it away.
Instead she told me to replant it. Than only will it grow bigger and more beautiful than it ever was.
This she told me was love.
Anyone can love the surface of a flower. What's not to love? It's beautiful and fragrant. Has very lovely colours and very attractive. But only one true to his duties and feelings will be able to love the flower internally. Only he would care for it like it was his own life. Until it grows and glows magnificently under the moon.
True love don't burn you down, it turns you into a better person and closer to your Creator.
That was what she said. If it doesn't, than it is not called love. Right?
Well, I'll leave you to judge.
