Fall in love, yes do. When you are Eighteen, nineteen or ninety For " n " number of times Fall in love Along the corridors Of a college library, Or in a strange city Or around a new alley, Or in a wornout park Anywhere and Everywhere Fall in love Easily and quickly.
Sneak into an abandoned Corner holding hands , Sail your lips upon his Behind a Sycamore tree, Let him make a voyage round your being , Your hills and your valleys And you trace the map of a world he carries under his robes.
Thereafter when he waves a Goodbye, you smile and say goodbye too.
Don't become Sylvia Plath in love, never make poetries for him, don't write an elegy when he departs, okay? Try not to become Frida Kahlo In love either, don't paint tears In your canvas when he starts unwrapping another woman.
Ah, fall in love I say Just don't make him an art you know, Coz my professor says Art out lives all, Art is immortal. So in that case he would continue to live in you while you die!