In a quiet village, there lived a traveller who believed herself wise. She measured every step, weighed every choice, and trusted that her heart could never betray her.
One day, she met a stranger. Nothing about him was extraordinary — no riches, no grand words, no dazzling beauty. Yet something in his presence stirred her soul. She could not name it, could not grasp it, and so she laughed at herself, calling it foolishness.
But the feeling grew. It warmed her, unsettled her, and made her question the armour of reason she had worn all her life. She tried to resist, but the more she fought, the more she realised that love is not a puzzle to be solved, but a mystery to be lived.
The elders of the village told her: “Even the wisest are humbled by love. It is not stupidity to be moved; it is humanity. For love chooses us before we choose it.”
And so the traveller learned that sometimes love happens without reason, without explanation, and without permission. It makes us feel foolish, but in that foolishness lies the proof that we are alive, vulnerable, and capable of being changed.
Moral: Love does not ask for logic; it asks for courage. To be foolish in love is not weakness, but the truest sign of being human.