Raihan: A Room Full of Love

Love notes arranged in a scatterly manner across the mauve face of the four-sided box. Light, gentle music flows hand in hand with the vanilla scent of the flickering candles that whisper sweet messages: “I love you”, “I miss you”, “Be mine”. C - A minor - F - G on a loop, strummed by a pair of soft hands whose features are illuminated by the dancing flames. Clear, untouched eyes rest upon the pictures with the jeweled frames, scarlet red, gold and pink ribbons lay untangled and naked on the warm silky bed sheets.

Velvet curtains drown the sunlight so the room retains its life for passion and romance. Cranberries, strawberries, raspberries, jam-filled croissants decorate the ivory coffee table engraved with hearts and angels holding bows and arrows.

Also on the porcelain table, sits the red, white, yellow and even blue bouquets. Chunks of white and dark chocolate coated candy, half eaten and randomly picked, await their turn in envy as the caramel ones are almost finish. Even the mounted, scented cards sit patiently for their time to be read and awed upon.

Sharifah: A Room Full of Love

A room full of love.

The generously-proportioned scarlet armchairs basked in the warmth emanating from the glowing fireplace. The tasselled cushions almost visibly inched closer to the gradually crumbling logs in the grate, away from the gradually crumbling logs in the grate, away from the iciness of the gently falling snowflakes in the windowsill. The late afternoon light enhanced the golden aura that veiled the rose wallpaper and bronzed the furniture.

The proud fir in the corner was half-decorated from the bottom up, a trail of sparkly tinsel wrapped around it dotted with metallic baubles and quaint trinkets accumulated over the years. The rest of the ornaments sat in a red and green striped box next to the presents, clearly from the early-birds who had done their holiday shopping early, waiting to be placed on the tree that evening by eager little hands stained with the remains of mincemeat pies.

The room was still, like the paintings on its walls. The only movement was the flickering flames in the fireplace and the small feet rushing up the stairs, followed by squeals of mirth as bathtime took place. The room seemed to sigh, as if reminiscing on past Christmases, in anticipation of the events of the night.

Ramzul: A Room Full of Love

A room full of love. Not just love, light, cheeriness and pink. A room filled with love, with people, with cheers, with laughter and with honesty. Saturated with goodwill and compassion towards all in every corner.

Love. It’s inside the drinks, the cakes and the hearts of the room. Nothing left empty and everything overflows with joy.

The air is thick and heavy. Its pleasant scents and wonderful aromas overpowering not just noses but eyes, ears, skin and tongue. Its thickness is so much that it’s almost there. It’s almost there and you almost drown as you bathe in it. It’s so powerful, so moving, so sweet and to me, it simply sickens.

A room full of love. So brightly colored that it hurts and blinds, so loud and noisy that I might go deaf, so sweetly scented and sweetly thick that I’d throw it all up and out, so powerful and so real and dense that I’d drown before I’d suffocate.

A room full of love. People in the room smile, laugh and cheer. They love, they care and they’re at peace. Nothing else could be so boring and so dull. That’s a room full of love.