(Dedicated to my dear friend, Vivek Pareek as a reminder that people do things that they have to, but they are not the evil to have done so.)
He approached her,
Unsure, even scared,
Suppressed no more.
His self, for her laid bare.
However shy she was,
She did not resist.
She let him come near,
She let him love her.
She submitted to him.
And they became one.
Consumed in their love for each other.
He shared his soul with her.
His dreams, his joys, his passions,
Became one with her laughter.
And soon she knew
All there was to know,
About a simple black beetle.
And his small world,
Which now revolved around her.
Yet try as he may,
She never told him of herself.
Never spoke of her dreams,
She just liked to listen.
Whenever he asked her,
All she said was that she loved him,
And that that should be enough.
If asked more,
She would just become silent.
So he never troubled her,
With these unpleasant questions.
He was too lost in his happiness,
Too lost in their future.
To notice if anything was amiss.
And it broke his heart,
To leave her each night.
To bid adieu and watch her from afar,
As she curled up her petals and slept,
Bathed in magical starlight.
He would retire to sleep thereafter,
Dreaming of her,
Deep into the happy night.
Asking himself how he was worthy,
Of knowing such love divine.
He slept, only to be welcomed each morning,
By her charming smile.
And spending the day by her side,
Talking to her of all things
That came to his mind.
But that particular day was different,
She seemed so sad.
And he didn't like that.
So he decided to make her happy,
He decided to show her how much he loved.
He showed it by making it.
And he gave her all the joys,
That he could offer.
And it made her happy,
The happiest of all creatures.
That night the adieu,
was more painful than ever.
She bid him farewell,
With tears in her eyes,
tears both of joy and sorrow.
The next morning the beetle awoke,
Only to find his back covered,
By the sticky pollen that she'd secreted.
What was it he wondered?
And why wouldn't it come off his back?
And Fear came to him,
And told him how he had been taken,
By the charms of that innocent-looking lady.
He said that this is what she did,
She tricked unsuspecting beetles.
She had used him, his love,
Had trapped him into making love to her.
And smeared him with her pollen,
Contaminating his pure heart.
All this for her own wicked schemes and plots.
He said she had faked her love,
Only to draw him near.
She had used him for her own good.
And he would never love again,
As no one ever should.
He did not want to believe Him.
Yet he did.
Yet never thought it possible to hate her.
Still he did.
He never thought Love would cheat him.
But in the end, She did.