“The First Spark” (Love between Moonlight and Mischief)
Introduction : Some stories don’t arrive loudly — they tiptoe in, smiling. This is one of those stories, born in a playground and carried by shy glances. It’s about a boy who didn’t understand his own heart, and a girl who changed it quietly. No grand promises, no dramatic confessions — just innocence doing what it does best. A first feeling, confused and sweet, blooming without permission. Welcome to a childhood love that didn’t know it was love… yet.
The scene shown in this image reflects a key moment from the poem “The First Spark,” when a mischievous young boy pauses beside a rose and encounters a girl who unknowingly changes his inner world. The soft sunset, the hesitant posture, and the quiet smile mirror the innocence, confusion, and emotional curiosity described in the poem — the moment when childhood mischief gives way to the earliest understanding of love.
“The First Spark”
(Love between Moonlight and Mischief)
Human hearts are strange, it seems,
They wander first, then chase their dreams.
What feels unkind, they push away,
Till time persuades them gently to stay.
So walk with me through this small tale,
Not often heard, not thin or pale.
It blooms in Islamabad’s light,
Where childhood met a softer sight.
A boy named Shahzad, young and small,
Once stepped into the city’s call.
Mischief danced within his eyes,
Trouble sweetly in disguise.
He lived for laughter, play, and noise,
For careless days and simple joys.
Nothing else could keep him near,
No rule, no thought, no grown-up fear.
Until one day, the world stood still,
A quiet pause against his will.
A girl appeared—soft, unaware,
And something changed while she stood there.
His heart, once wild and running free,
Stirred with a feeling he couldn’t see.
No name, no shape, no reason why,
Just something warm he couldn’t deny.
The first encounter—pure confusion,
A tangled mess, a strange collision.
Yet as she left, without a sound,
A mark upon his heart was found.
The second time, a passing glance,
No words exchanged, no bold advance.
Her eyes lingered just a while,
As if unsure what made him smile.
Then one soft day beside a rose,
Where quiet thoughts refused to close,
A sudden ball came from behind,
Startling his heart, stealing his mind.
He turned—and there she stood once more,
The same girl from before.
“Did it hurt?” she asked, so kind,
Concern reflected in her eyes.
“No, it’s fine,” he softly said,
Though butterflies filled up his head.
His voice was calm, his heart unsure,
That gentle moment felt too pure.
“Will you come and play with us?”
She smiled, as if it mattered much.
“Play with girls?” he blurted fast,
Then wished he could pull the words back.
She laughed aloud, not hurt at all,
“There are boys too,” she made the call.
“My brother, cousin—come and see.”
Her laughter set his courage free.
“And tell me,” then she asked once more,
“What were you staring at before?”
He glanced again at the lonely rose,
Then smiled and said, “I don’t quite know.”
You’re strange,” she laughed, a playful grace,
And sudden warmth ran through his face.
“My name is Shahzad,” he confessed.
“I’m Maryam,” she said, impressed.
A tiny spark, a gentle start,
Lit something new inside his heart.
No grand words spoken, none required,
Just childhood feelings, newly fired.
Day turned to night, night back to day,
Her name would never drift away.
In dreams, in thoughts, in silent air,
Somehow, Maryam was always there.
He told his friend, a secret shy,
Haseeb just laughed and wondered why.
“You’ve fallen, brother, it’s so clear,
Your heart’s gone quiet, yet sincere.”
“Tell me her name,” Haseeb pressed on,
And softly came the word, “Maryam.”
“Call her Mary,” Haseeb teased light,
As moonlight silvered up the night.
“Next time you meet her,” Haseeb said,
“Be calm, be kind, think what you’ve said.
Don’t scare her heart, don’t act too wild,
For once—don’t be such a child.”
From then on, when their paths would meet,
They’d sit and talk in evenings sweet.
A quiet bench, the setting sun,
Where time slowed down when days were done.
Some nights beneath the moon’s soft glow,
Their whispered words would gently flow.
And when they didn’t meet that day,
Their hearts felt restless, drawn away.
So watch this story gently bloom,
A boy, a girl, love finding room.
In innocent laughs, in shy delight,
A tender heart learns how to light.
—Shahzad Sulaiman
Author’s Note (Summary) :
Human beings are strange, aren’t they? When a person looks at the things around them, if something appeals to them, they immediately accept it as right. But if something doesn’t appeal to them, they reject it without thinking—despite knowing very well that this rejection is only because they didn’t like it, and also knowing that, in reality, they are wrong.
Anyway, there are some things that a person eventually accepts with time. When someone is immature, they don’t understand these things, but as they grow older, little by little, they begin to understand and accept them. And among those things, one thing is called love.
So come, today I’ll tell you the story of a very young child. Stay with me till the end, because this is not an ordinary story—this is a tale you probably have never heard anywhere before.
The story begins in a beautiful and captivating city of the world, located in Pakistan, called Islamabad. A boy named Shahzad came here with his parents and siblings when he was only four years old, and he had been living here ever since. Shahzad was small, and people considered him very innocent—but in reality, he was extremely mischievous. Fighting with friends, teasing people, and always thinking of ways to annoy others was his habit. There were only two things in his life that he truly loved: playing and mischief. Nothing else ever really held his interest.
Years passed like this, but then one day, when he turned twelve, his eyes fell upon a girl in a playground.
We won’t talk much about the first meeting because it wasn’t good at all—in fact, if I’m being honest, it was pure madness. But yes, one thing I must say: as she walked away, that girl left a deep mark on Shahzad’s heart. Shahzad, who was already a little crazy, slowly started becoming even crazier after seeing her. But he was just a child at that time, so he couldn’t recognize the fire that had ignited in his heart, nor could he answer the questions his heart kept asking him every moment.
Then came the time for the second meeting. This time, by fate, nothing bad happened like before—but nothing special happened either, because Shahzad only saw her and didn’t talk to her. So we’ll skip straight to the third meeting. But one good thing about the second meeting was that the girl stared at Shahzad for a few moments—perhaps wondering what a strange boy he was.
Then one Sunday, Shahzad was standing in a park beside a rose plant, staring at it, when suddenly a ball came from behind and hit his shoulder. When he turned around, the same girl had come to retrieve the ball and said,
“Sorry, the ball hit you by mistake. Did it hurt?”
Hearing this, Shahzad replied,
“No, it’s okay. No need to say sorry. It didn’t hurt.”
The girl then said,
“Alright then. Will you play with us?”
As soon as Shahzad heard this, he replied bluntly,
“Play with girls?”
Hearing that, the girl laughed and said,
“There are boys too—my brother and cousin. So tell me, will you come to play? And by the way, what were you doing here with this rose plant?”
When Shahzad saw her smiling, he forgot all about the rose and said,
“Yeah, okay. If there are boys too, then I’ll play.”
The girl asked again,
“You still haven’t told me what you were doing with the rose plant.”
Shahzad replied,
“I’ll tell you some other time. Right now, I don’t have an answer.”
Hearing this, the girl said,
“You’re a very strange boy. What’s your name?”
Shahzad answered,
“My name is Shahzad. And yours?”
She replied,
“My name is Maryam.”
This was the first time they spoke a little, but the real problem now began for Shahzad. Day or night, in thoughts or in dreams, he saw only Maryam everywhere. But Shahzad still couldn’t understand what all this was, so he told everything to his friend Haseeb.
As soon as Haseeb heard this, he started laughing and said loudly,
“Oh my brother, Shahzad has fallen in love! Come on, tell me, what’s my sister-in-law’s name?”
Shahzad panicked, stood up, covered Haseeb’s mouth, and said,
“Lower your voice, idiot! Someone will hear. And what nonsense are you talking? I’m not in love with anyone.”
Haseeb laughed and said,
“If you’re not in love, then why have you been so quiet these days? Whoever it is, she has taken your heart with her. And a person without a heart doesn’t talk—just like you.”
Shahzad fell silent.
Haseeb then asked,
“Come on, tell me—what’s her name?”
Shahzad quietly said,
“Maryam.”
Haseeb laughed and said,
“If you want, you can lovingly call her ‘Mary’ too.”
Shahzad replied,
“And why would I do that?”
Haseeb simply said,
“Because you love her. And the next time you meet her, please behave like a human being—don’t talk to her the way you talk to us, or everything will be ruined.”
And from then, whenever Shahzad and Maryam met, they would talk for hours sitting together on a bench in the queit evening or beneath pale moonlight at night. And when they didn’t meet, both of them felt a strange restlessness, as if something gentle yet important was missing.
Did this poem quietly slip into your heart and stay there for a moment?
Or maybe it stirred a memory — that innocent crush, that shy smile, that love you never quite understood back then?
If it did, you’re more than welcome to share your story in the comments below. I’d truly love to read about your own first spark — the gentle, innocent kind of love that once made your heart feel lighter.
And who knows… maybe you’ll share this poem with that one person from your past — or present — and they might just whisper something magical back, straight from their heart to yours ✨
Feel free to explore my other poems as well. Each one is written with the same touch of love, a hint of humor, and a whole lot of heart :
Disclaimer :
This poem is a work of imagination and fiction. While the emotions are inspired by real life, the events are creatively written. Any places mentioned are real, and the characters are inspired by real life experiences, shared with full consent. This piece is not intended to target, harm, or misrepresent any individual. Please respect this work as a form of art and do not use it inappropriately.
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