This was one strange story.

I was laying down on the grace in the park, after at least four hours of  wandering  London’ streets, when I saw a guy in his forties approaching me. With very sad eyes and hesitant voice he asked me if I was a Muslim. Well, usually I hate these situations when I am spotted and asked about being a Muslim, especially with all the stereotypes and labels that people have in their minds regarding a Muslim woman.In addition, in fact, while travelling I like and enjoy being anonymous because I like to feel liberated from any social pressure.

Anyway, with a hasty voice I said yes and I was already getting up to leave. He apologized to bother me and asked me if a Muslim woman has to marry a Muslim? is it possible to consider a christian guy?!. this question was an additional reason to hurry up to leave the place. While picking up my stuff trying to ignore him, he asked me to advise him, he loves this Muslim woman, a doctor and he feels so miserable! he doesn’t know how to approach her, she seems very serious and she would never accept him. She is very proud and comes from a religious family, he explained. His eyes were already wet with tears, and I was so touched by his suffering.

I came back and told him “just talk to her, approach her directly, don’t spend your life wondering. You never know, may be she doesn’t care if you are Muslim or not ! what you will lose? at least you will know for sure how she feels about you and you cut the anxiety and suffering short! ”

Does it make me an alien to confess, that i don’t believe in love? I don’t believe in this commercialized, mass produced love that we long read in books and watched in movies? I simply don’t believe in it!. what a myth! what a big lie we lived seeking heart shapes, roses, white bubbles and balloons. In this park,  I saw this poor stranger’ face and crying eyes. and I almost felt believing that LOVE really exists! but as we all know it is suffering, irrational and damn cruel!