We have been taught to believe that all good things take time, but do arrive at last. Honestly, I have always been skeptical about this. Why wouldn’t I be? When throughout your life you breathe the intoxic, you find it hard to breathe the innocuous. When you’ve been habituated to the venom in your veins, you find it difficult to accept that there should be blood in them. When you’ve been used to people giving up and walking over you, you find it strange when someone stays. When you’ve been through the darkness of hatred, you find the light of love blinding. But our heart, it never actually ages, like a 4 year old, it adjusts, it accepts, and it forgives. And no, it doesn’t take time. When a speck of good comes to us, at an instance, our heart starts dancing to the rythm, no matter how bruised it may be. It doesn’t always gets in sync with the rationality of our minds. Logics, facts, norms, all the rights and all the wrongs, nothing is an impediment strong enough to cease its jubilant steps. It’ll always be naive enough to fall for the trap; the trap of hope, the trap of expectations. Over and over again, all through your life. All the rationality, all the opinions; no matter how strong, wither. When you may be flawlessly pretending that you’ve embraced the thorns of life, just then, life will throw roses at you to make you realise that good exists and that you too have a share in it. Despite being well aware of the lasting pain that temporary joys bring, our heart takes the plunge. Only in the hope that this may be the last time, may be this time fate will let it last.