Most of the people lead very simple life without much ups and downs. They are common men. The newspaper is least interested in describing such common men. The creative literature hardly takes notice of these common men. The most written about topics of such literature are usually wars, earthquakes, storms... Some or other sort of natural or manmade calamities. This is the hypothesis of Robert Lind. Though it has exceptions, the love that is described in literature follows it. In true life, we wish to have smooth living with unbinding love everwhere. Love with its flowery touch, feathery appearance. But in novels, love always suffers. It is more hurting than healing and we as readers go for it. In reality, there are neither thorns, nor flowers laid in the path. There are only stones on the path of love. These stones prick our feet, hurt them, make them bleed. They give us pain they make us cry. At the very moment, from somewhere comes a breeze cooling us, healing us, soothing us. The funniest part is without noticing its effects the breeze moves forward cool and to heal someone else.
