The Love of Soul

Image credits: Pintrest

With an equal sense of pride and fear, she marks her way to the village well. As the bucket goes rolling inside the well making a noise that symbolizes her inner state, cutting deeper into her soul, awaits a fill that would satiate her long known thirst. In half anxiety, she takes out the half filled bucket and pours the water into the deprived desert land nearby. Like always, she is incapable of accepting incomplete. She returns home, yet waiting in silence, for her turn of fulfillment. During her self imposed exile from her native village, she’s decided to stay in a deserted land that is let free of inhibition by villages on either side. In a sense, she’s always felt an urge to live here. Either completely perfect or completely imperfect has appealed to her senses from the day she entered into her puberty. In the early years of her womanhood, she has met many boys and a few men. And yet hardly any one capable of holding the grace of her soul. There have been some who annoyed her by being too polished, and some got annoyed by seeing her rawness. Unbothered, she lived on waiting to be touched by not a mortal body of a man, but by that touch of his soul that would make her perfect. She knew her imperfections and thus her journey was very clear- to rise from imperfections to the perfection. From a woman to a piece of soul that would fit into another piece to be and make one whole. There’s a pride in her being that would make the imperfect ones nervous. Her eyes like a magnifying glass would pierce straight into one’s core, and at once withdraw when she’s made her choice. On her impressive journey, did she come across someone who seemed to know her in and out. In his presence, she was most nervous because there’s nothing to hide. A man as simple as flowing water was competent enough to make her full in a pure, purposeless glance. Never had she felt in love before, never did she know what love felt like. Since her puberty to her womanhood, she has been searching a soul that could meet hers in the most uncommon fashion, by virtue of its existence. In the land she’s seen many souls before, but not like his. It appeared to her that she’s hardly known any before. A man whose only virtue was to be, had enough of capability to bring her alive. He never made obvious gesture of love to her, but every bit of his existence made love to every bit of hers. The man after serving his innate purpose of being for her, has now gone. He came unspoken, and he left unsaid. She has not complained. Like a joyous bird, she’s singing the melody of her life. There’s no regret, there’s no expectation and there’s no imperfection now. She’s been perfected to her soul. They had exchanged pieces with each other and now they are whole. Independent of physical law of existence, their love’s grown beyond time, space and need of expression. Now they just be- man, woman, love- they all just be.


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