We have our own versions and interpretations of "Love" and I came across an interesting one from an unexpected quarter recently....


"Love is not an object with an ISI stamp that we buy thinking it will be strong and long lasting.....

Love is a fragrant breeze that touches and passes by, its fragrance unrecognised.

And sometimes having felt it we still choose to remain strangers......"

Yashoda, 18 years, lives in a slum in one of the cities of India, in "If I were rain", celebrating the spirit of India's disadvantaged urban child.

(this is a translation from Hindi, which I liked reading and found it to be profound!)