WHAT IS LOVE?
We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, and who can understand our quirks, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love. Criticisms & complaints & whines & excuses have no place in love! Falling in love with someone isn't always going to be easy... Anger... tears... laughter.... It's when you want to be together despite it all. That's when you truly love another.....
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Love can mean a lot of things to a lot of people. In today’s age of instancy, chats, ‘crack kick’s’ with orgies it may mean a transient sexual encounter that comes and goes, poof! -Before you know it your in -out - disoriented - disillusioned. And to regroup you’ve jumped into another quagmire. The urge for heady stimulation is just that. A need for adrenalin rush. I’ve always viewed love however, as a timeless ethereal fragrance that lingers, warms , gives meaning to moments and stays with me forever. For a parent, a friend , a lover or an army for its General. Like a glow, that enlivens, especially enervating in those bleak moments that I’ve often seen in a life of troughs and triumphs.
Love comes in various avtaars. For my neighbour whom I want to meet, despite time constraints and no common social connectivity, my friends who make me want to make them laugh with weird stories, my apso who makes me want to squeeze him and eat him up with violent passionate love, my parents whodraw the strings of my heart to near pain, my man, who brings that feeling of effulgence, luminosity and sunshine into my every moment.
When love is intertwined with romance and attraction it is that heady mix of magic that gives wings to your feet and makes you smile every time you think of your loved one. Countless movies, paintings, poems, songs have embalmed and eulogized this high note in an otherwise tough ‘womb to tomb’ journey. It is indeed love that makes the world go round. Not gravity and planetary orbits. Look at it objectively- Without love life is a mundane machinery of ingestion, defecation, ejaculation , with empty notes and moments that fill a careworn existence. The x factor that takes it to another orbit of ‘high’ is the very impractical love.
My friend asked me on the brink of her supposed romance, “Nisha, How will I know if I am in Love”? She tried hard to contrive the situation because she so longed to be in love with the right man, who gave her the right solitaire, who lived near her parental home, who was rich and not too famous or too tall and wore the right brands. Who just did everything ‘right’. Pretty much like fitting the right sofa into the right corner of the house. Inanimate and lifeless but perfectly fitting and ‘looking’ so ‘right’. She did find him, near her parental home, married him, had babies, does ‘kitties’ and lunches and her high notes are the diamonds and bags she brandishes at the ‘kitties’. To that I’d say different strokes for different folks. We all get our happiness from different types of ‘Loves’.
In terms of a metaphor, to illustrate what I feel love is,- to me Love is like buying an impractical painting because you react to it, you cannot imagine another moment of life without it, and it’s in-affordable, and you don’t have wall space in a city apartment, and it’s something you don’t really ‘need’ nor really understand, but react to- it hits you in your gut and you just HAVE to have it or nothing will ever be the same for you ever again.
Written For L’Official
Valentine Issue, February 2012
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