CHOICE: The Trial of Love

[Satya]

The court is in session at the kitchen table.
Two cups of tea. No judge. Two lawyers.


Exhibit A, says Meena:
“I left my city for you.”
Exhibit B, says Arjun:
“I turned down Dubai for you.”


Each lawyer is sure the other was paid
to ruin a perfectly good life.
Each keeps receipts nobody asked for:
the birthday forgotten, the dream put away,
the night someone said “do what you want”
and meant the opposite.


But look at who is missing from the room.
The girl who laughed at his terrible jokes.
The boy who stood in the rain outside her office
and didn’t call it a sacrifice,
because nothing was being counted yet.


They were not choosing, then.
They were just moving toward each other,
the way a plant moves toward a window.
The lawyers weren’t born yet.


The lawyers arrived later, with paperwork.
They turned “I wanted to” into “I gave up.”
They turned a warm night into a signed contract
and called the contract love.


So now love is in the witness box.
Both sides shout, “Tell the truth! Whose fault was it?”
Love says nothing.
It never signed anything.

 

[TheWanderer]

So real.. and relatable

 

[cheetra]

The court is in session at the kitchen table.
Two cups of tea. No judge. Two lawyers.


Exhibit A, says Meena:
“I left my city for you.”
Exhibit B, says Arjun:
“I turned down Dubai for you.”


Each lawyer is sure the other was paid
to ruin a perfectly good life.
Each keeps receipts nobody asked for:
the birthday forgotten, the dream put away,
the night someone said “do what you want”
and meant the opposite.


But look at who is missing from the room.
The girl who laughed at his terrible jokes.
The boy who stood in the rain outside her office
and didn’t call it a sacrifice,
because nothing was being counted yet.


They were not choosing, then.
They were just moving toward each other,
the way a plant moves toward a window.
The lawyers weren’t born yet.


The lawyers arrived later, with paperwork.
They turned “I wanted to” into “I gave up.”
They turned a warm night into a signed contract
and called the contract love.


So now love is in the witness box.
Both sides shout, “Tell the truth! Whose fault was it?”
Love says nothing.
It never signed anything.

It could be an excellent skit.
As long as they are sitting across each other in kitchen with tea, there is love, just the language has changed. An outsider cannot see it. But its there in their eyes when they argue...