There is something about these nights. whether it’s cold and foggy wintery night or the rain and its romantic renditions night. They are never silent. They try to tell you something. They try to speak to you. One should have an ear to hear. But right now, the only sound I can hear is the ticking of the clock and barking of the Dogs at some distance. The coffee is at its place, and so am I, all set to write, to express my boiling feelings, the rage inside me, and the hunger, to find some answers in the best way I can. This was one hour ago. Never thought a blank white screen and a blinking cursor will haunt me this much. But it is fairly justified if not right. What could I write about love that is not already written? What can I say and express that has never been expressed?
With each day passing, I discover something new about Love. But my thoughts could be polluted. So I asked people who are in love or at least claims to be. You know, the thing about perspectives is they differ according to how the person is from inside. When I got the answers, I discovered one more thing. Love itself is a polluted word. It is polluted by the expectations, and the wishes the do’s and the don’ts that are forced on each other. The love is never selfless and definitely not pure or pious.
If love is not this, then what is it? I was asking myself a thousand questions, I was restless. Is it when your definition of the perfect night changes to, the night when you will be walking with your dream girl, holding hands on a beach in a cold wintery night, with stars watching over you and waves cheering for your shared love? or, Is it, when you accidentally touch her hand and your whole body shivers like some electrifying current just passed through it? Or when it melts your heart to an extent that it just becomes impossible to handle so much of feelings that they come out as the tears of ecstasy and you never know why. Or when you realise that your reality is finally better than your dreams. Or when songs finally are making sense and have meanings. Or when you need them like your heart needs a beat. Or when you start to feel complete. Or maybe it is about the late long night calls and the messages like, when you looked at me it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from my lungs floating into the air like midnight smoke”.
Is this what love is all about? NO! It can’t be. A bunch of feelings polluted by selfish expectations should not define something as important as love. So, I did not settle for this and continued my quest for love. “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” – Lao Tzu. I then met some really courageous people. What I discovered surprised me. Love has a whole new definition and meaning for them. The person who said one-sided love is not a true love probably doesn’t know anything about love. You can sacrifice and not love. But you cannot love and not sacrifice. The hardest thing to do is watch the one you love, love someone else. Maybe this is why it is courageous, maybe this is what love is. It’s funny how a person can break your heart, and you can still love them with all the little pieces. It’s hard to wait around for something that you know might never happen. But it’s even harder to give up when you know it’s everything you want. Love is about wait and patience. Loves is not always about the tears of ecstasy, sometimes its also about the cries in despair. Love is about congratulating them on finding love, even when you know that you are not the giver of that love. Love is about feeling happy for them knowing that you are not the author of that happiness. Sometimes it’s about the largest portion of your unanswered prayers.
That made sense. My quest will still go on. I can not say its never-ending, at least I don’t want to. It will end one day.
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