I stand in no position to apologize for the continuous hiatus I keep taking from blogging. I blame my laziness through and through. Lack of inspiration would simply be an excuse. But today’s post is more of a confession. A cathartic confession. I have all my life, yes, ALL.MY.LIFE. been a romantic. Lovers also awed me, the concept of two people falling in love amongst billions of human beings at the same time fascinated me, it still fascinates me. It’s what they say, “the Universe conspires”..a web for them. A cocoon, a solace. To me it seems. Being a girl, I am a hardcore Chick-flick, chick-lit aficionado. The pseudo-intellect in me loves me my intellectual movies and books to read, but deep within I know I enjoy me some love and playful banter tad bit more. I ENJOY it, being the expression to stress on. Simply put, I LOVE LOVE. I just love it. With all my heart and soul. I’ve written teeny bopper-ish love poems all through High School. Still do. They are random and funny and with exaggerated expectations, but that’s just me. Loving love. I have not however had a boyfriend for almost 8 years now. Don’t get me wrong, SOME boys did like me, and I liked some, I was audacious enough to ask out boys, 3 to be precise and all of them turned me down. Yes, my heart did break into million pieces each time. But I still LOVE love, albeit not bold enough anymore to coagulate the courage to make another reckless and heart-wrenching proposal.
I feel that somehow I am incomplete, a part of my inside is empty, waiting, waiting, impatiently, and yet sometimes surprisingly patiently, to be complete. That one day, someday, I shall be loved, in a way no one has loved me before. an exquisite sensation deep within my core. That the rising sun each morning would finally give me a purpose to smile and let me burn deep into the night. No, no, this seems queazy but I am not particularly talking about sex, I am talking about falling in love. I want to feel wanted. I want to feel needed. To be the reason someone smiles everyday and return the gesture. To see and experience poetry in each and every breath I take. To see poetry in everything. Maddening love. Passionate love. Deep and drown-in-love kind of love. Hyperbolic much I can be, right? I just love love. This is one of my deepest, darkest fantasy. Till a point in my life I thought this feeling goes against my fundamental principle of feminism. Maybe a part of me is still in a fix. Still trying to negate these deep, dark desires. Or perhaps I am deliberately trying to suppress them, because I have not found what they call “THE ONE”. Maybe both.Can’t dwell and elaborate much on the latter option, but I thought to myself one day, regarding the former, that being a feminist does not necessarily imply you can’t hope and want and need to fall deep in love. This is a primal instinct. A primal need. We aren’t exactly incomplete. But we need love in our lives. We all do. It makes life worth living. It gives meaning and purpose to our life. Love. Yes it does. Be it love for a partner, a friend, a hobby or a job for that matter. It transcends a life from surviving each day to living each day. Love gives us Hope. Love is Hope in one of its many variant forms.
So, as I wait for my Dark Knight in shining armor, waiting to carry me with him so that we may both wage the battle together, I would just like to ask you, do you love love? The concept of love? Do you have someone in your life like that. One person you can truly count on, warts and all? If you do, then value them, appreciate them every single day, because not everybody gets that in one lifetime. And if you don’t then be that person for yourself. Fall in love with yourself each day. Be your own reason to smile. Go out there, cease this world, just envelope yourself in your thoughts and fall madly in love with yourself. Because what is life, if not lived with love.
Also, people, please pray for Nepal, and please do whatever tad bit you can for that shaken country.