November 20th, 2012
Someone once told me
"Flirts cannot love."
It is not true. They can fall in love. Even if the chances of falling are not normal, but the chances are there. Even the flirts themselves obliterate the possibilities of loving someone, you never know when one might just get ill. Another bitter and "fake" reality is that only boys are way into this flirt thing and women on the other hand are poor innocent souls who don't and who can't flirt. To cut the long story short, I once interacted with a lady who was quite beautiful. Sadly she herself knew she was pretty. A little effort of a flirt and she started talking. Over time the talk bloomed to more talks, longer talks and deeper talks. Talks changed to walks afterwards even though those walks were very few. Between these rare walks and lots of talks, she probed me and found out all the flaws I was born with. It was so biased of her that all she saw were the bad parts. Like a sharp girl, she kept noticing them over time.
Once it happened, as it happens to all the women, she was not in a good mood and later in a wave of fury she burst up claiming that the "Flirts aren't good" and "they stab their preys with the same dagger!"
Later I got to know what that dagger was and who the preys were. It is not about proving who was right then or who is still wrong but she exaggerated that entire account. Yes, there were preys as she said and there was a "dagger" as well but it was just a feminine trick to overcome the goodness of a boy. But she kept repeating about this "same" trick so often.
Like all my writings, here I mention God again. God kept showing the truths and kept saving from the troubles time and time again. He did that again. One night I was walking in a dark tunnel far away from the city when I discovered a chest between the stones of the wall of that tunnel. On that chest were her initials. I got excited assuming it might contain some treasure. When I opened it, all that came out was something that disappointed me, not only artistically but it took away all that goodness, the hopes and the foundations of trust. Standing by that chest, with a candle in my hand, I got to know in that dark tunnel which even the broad daylight could not tell me. In that dim candle-light was God's enlightenment. The one who used to call me a murderer had killed too. Shockingly her murders were more than mine. She had a bigger and more elegant dagger too. In fact, mine looks like a toy gun in comparison. Her preys didn't survive. At least not like happy men after she had her tricks with them. Me on the opposite let my "preys" stay happy and even kept flirting with them. The one who called me bad was on my side of the spectrum too. Her blame game and accusations was just a part of a bigger trick she pulled off so successfully. It was she herself who stood behind a plain glass, wore a fake mustache and pretended to be me! I salute her skills of mimicking all my bad qualities. Today I feel sorry. Not for her. Not for me. But for an honest flirt who broke the tradition of not falling in love. It was in his genes that he did. Nature doesn't change. There is a gene to love too.