Last words of a husband to his wife!

Love!
My love- don’t get confused.
Love is not mathematics, nor science or geography
or the chemistry as they say!
but a mystery!
a secret in one’s heart
a plant
which grows with the burning of desires
and survives
with our longing- it is because it always fight
like a soldier
who sees life in death.

So here you go my love
those who want to plant seeds of hatred
between my chest
and your fragrance
are no men! And not worth a fight!
And what more can they do us my love?
I am neither a defeated soldier!
nor a soldier with war medals !
but a man, which you know since long!
And men don’t die with the deaths of their bodies.

But again there is a war, my love
a stupid bloody war
Knocking on my door
Which they have imposed on me
in the name of peace.
So if die today
never mourn on my dead body
for you know that I won’t be dead
but a living soul......
that may visit on you every morning
when you will get dressed up
with my memories
and feel my fingers when our son will lift up your grey hair
and you will smile
as you feel the caress of his fingers touching your cheeks
and kissing your forehead.

I don’t want to know the chemistry of it
as they say
I don’t want to know the difficulties in it either!
nor I am scared, my love
and those who are still conspiring
let them know
that love is invincible
like Himalayas
and deep as oceans
but then I will give them one more proof......
a leaf of our longing
a leaf
that will tell them the story of our love
my son, my love
the fire and tenderness of war years.

Farid Gul, London, October 17th 2009.