The musing of an aching heart

Strange, stranger and strangest are the ways of the heart! All of us know it but few understand this. It amuses me as to how, this four valve thing reacts, acts and pro acts to the various sense of life's rhythm. It makes me laugh, makes me cry, makes me dream and is the result of every desire as to what I need.

It has the solution of every problem, as well as poses a problem to every possible solution. The heart-is the element of every contradictory emotion. It is the only element of our system that knows how to 'love to hate' and 'hate to late'. It lives two lives at one go. It is as strong as the rock of Gibraltar and as fragile as the glass.

It makes and breaks and again breaks and creates. It brings to mind the image that it has in the 21st century-a package wrapped up with band aid, yet has a reindeer red nose and that 'smiley smile. It is the only living thing that has the ability to hurt and get hurt. This four valve-fist size breed longs to love and be loved. As simple as it looks, it gets into complications and complexity, just as the fire to a moth.

It is the reason for many blood shed and the reason of every breathing cell. The heart is the inspiration of every painter's muse, every poets verse, every sculptors mould and every director's story. The heart is the story of every story as well as the muse to itself. Feelings, what can I say, romance, intimacy, intensity, envy, jealousy and the high of doing the wrong of every right.

It is the beat behind every pulse, yet the same kills it. But there is one thing that remains-the pain. Pain is its language. Pain is how its best described.