When a writer falls in love, he feels as if wind is fondling the grown up paddy fields and whispering as they are ready to meet their destiny for which they have been born. He feels as if leaves are dancing on trees and welcoming the spring and this world is again changing and turning green. There is an energy of change everywhere and one divine energy is regulating and making everything well, giving meaning to one and to all for their wanted existence.
A writer starts dreaming with open eyes about her presence around him and with his closed eyes see her coming closer and closer to him. He is as if waiting for her till eternity and he has been waiting and waiting as rain waits to pour on earth. He is still all wet and shivering for the fine whiff of her presence. She is the one that will complete his living, his purpose of living and bearing all which he is to be done to live for her longings alone.
A writer reads poems and feels that it is all written for her only and he can do better and he wants to write. There is a tempest in his mind and he wants to hold them all to show her what has changed in his being. He is no more the same as he was. He is smiling, not thinking about his imaginative characters, not talking with them anymore, not thinking where this love could lead him, and just talking in his head with his love.
She has succeeded in arresting him and he just wants to be as a slave and walk behind her wherever she wants to take him. For her he is there and in deep within feelings are telling him that she is the only one with whom he longs to live and die for her only. She is the center of all his thoughts and his all works. He is redefined and regrown towards a madness that allows his senses to perceive her even when her presence is yet to come.
She is the dawn and sunset. She is the rise of the lovely moon and twinkling star. She is everything. She is a creation of a new world. She is the new Earth. She is the one for whom this whole world conspires to whisper to make him think all about her. He finds her in everything. She is standing in crowd as if standing alone for him. She is alone and lost in his thoughts only. She has come out of his dream to love him and teach him to love her only.
A writer is no more a writer but a dreamer and so he knows the worst heart ache. His world ends there and after that he only breathes as if it is the last promise to live for her sake, to live just to tell the world that he has once perceive the softness and delicate touch of love that had once rattled his heart and make this world a wonderful place to live. Without her this earth holds no beauty and no reason to live longer but it is just breath which is left to continue and all the rest has died long back with her.
Such outcry of joy and sorrow is in the innate nature of an artist and such love and heart rending is the outburst in his writing. Writer is very romantic and very caring person. His love is the only source of living and the rest is a worldly affair.