This might be a late post but all I want to convey is how Dev expressed Shiva so scrupulously was solace to one’s heart.
According to me there must be someone who really have to be that particular person who indeed has to speak out or keep telling the other, their true Inness and that also rings a bell for the sacrifices meaning the adaptability of life one develops for the another.
Dev’s heart was on his sleeve when he delineated who really Shiva is, the much gentleman, the much compassionate, the true reason for him to deserve the love life he wanted and was a soulfully responsible son and brother of the Pandya family.
I was truly taken away when he juxtaposed beauty, it is pristinely hard to find such deciphering of handsomeness of a man. A heart that is exquisite shines than any precious metal on Earth, and the face reflects the glow without a wink of the eye.
Shiva and Kanwar personally is ravishingly exotic but this character rather is perceived as someone rugged, hard, stained by the sweat of the toil work at the shop.
But one seminal thought that we could bury with this is by going back to the drawling board and exploring how Shiva’s sweat drops that has stained his looks could be an effervescence of his Love to his family.
And his tan and hard soiled work deepens the perfection of beauty because a man who takes his job for love, sumptuously onerous tasks for ease indeed summates epitome of suave manliness.
I have the habit of penning down poems from the previous forums I was active, I would like to write down one on Shiva.
A short poem a Sonnet form, don’t blame me if it rhymes.
It is fourteen liner, hope you would love it.
The wind’s rhythm is my Cupid.
Who is the muse, the man with his hair dancing in the air, my racing beats seldom retreat, Am I alive, Oh Cupid!
A brook, a cacophony of the birds and water stringing a melody,
I met the man, the muse, with his sweat hitting the ground, a plant blossoms, harp of tenacity.
The growth an embodiment of care, compassion, love, humour, selfless, subtle, ensembled orchestra of togetherness.
Grew with the water droplets from his forehead and annihilated evil and jeopardised envy and sought oneness.
He is the extensive branch of the tree that showered with the scintillating rays of the Sun,
The beauty of this man, the Sun blushed and narrated a tale, listen to the Sun.
Oh! damsel, human kind are inhibitors of my child, the tan,
But this man your eyes glares is an art a craft chiseled by my rays, who puts the glow of my inheritance, he daringly bequeathes my legacy, my son.
The rain’s vibrant daughter who embraces the seven endearing colours of her mother,
Will be the bride of my beloved boy, who lits sparks from his eyes by imbibing my radiance girls are beaten/blown away by his hotness, smother.
If you are the fortunate damsel, glue him to your heart,
Cause he is infallible and invincible and that’s the one sequestered place, his heart for you to pitch, thy tent, to glam and succumb a tender tart.
Kindly comment and let me know if you liked it!
Regards
Jen
