Love...Once Again

I was afraid I had given up on writing. I was afraid I had given up on expressing. I was afraid I had given up on love.

The world is a master at the art of cynicism, which it cleverly camouflages with the mask of pragmatism, all the while fooling you into doubting your beliefs about yourself, life, relationships and perhaps every other thing around.

Each time I looked around, I felt fooled. My beliefs about life and love were being challenged. The world was changing at a great momentum. I felt like a radical particle from a different time, a time which may have never existed, floating through a multitude of events, which seemed surreal and real at the same time.

I could see my faith in love eroding. I didn't stop it. I could see myself become one among the many pseudo pragmatists, trying to fit into the moulds of the 'new' world. I didn't stop myself. It was far easier to hop onto the bandwagon and take part in the chaos rather than to exist feeling like an anachronism.

And then I stumbled upon this...a video...a short film called Blind Devotion. It came from an unexpected source , through an unexpected channel at an unexpected time. It must be one among the million other things that flow through the virality of the internet.

But to me it seemed like a message. A message to remind me that there still exist those people who don't give up on their hearts...those who are not afraid to remain a minority or seem tangent to practicality of the world...those who happily embrace their madness and live life like it is a storybook.

To all those brave those souls who run holding up the torch of true love, yet go unnoticed in the darkness of the world, I say thank you. I salute you.

You made me write again today. You will make me express again tomorrow. You will inspire me to love again...someday.

A note from Teddy's diary

They come. They hug. They go.

 

I sit there with my arms stretched out, my sophisticated demeanour being the only factor differentiating me from a scarecrow...a constant smile pasted on my face like static on a television screen.

 

I listen to them when they want to speak. I speak when they want to listen. I wipe their tears when they cry and laugh with them when they are happy. I allow them to have me around when they are alone and need company. I allow them to keep me aside when they have others to give them company.

 

They say I am adorable. They say I am sweet. They say I am their best friend. Am I? Really?

 

Or...am I just a Teddy Bear?

 

Do they know that deep inside all the sponge, there is a heart? ... a heart pretty much like theirs? Do they realize...

 

that I can 'feel' as much as they do?

 

that I want them to listen to me as much as I listen to them?

 

that I want to hug and be hugged not just when they feel like, but also when I feel like?

 

that I cannot switch roles between a Teddy and a Punching Bag as and when people want me to?

 

that just because my black buttony eyes do not shed tears, it does not mean that I don't need a shoulder once in a while?

 

that I too want to be able to express my feelings and emotions when I feel like, without being like a petrified investor constantly monitoring the volatility of their emotional stock exchange?

 

that affection is neither for charity nor on sale?

 

that I want them to be my best buddies in the truest sense?

 

Do they realize? ... Will they ever realize? ... I don't know.

 

However, what I do know is that... I don't want to be a Teddy Bear anymore.

Little something I never knew..

To,
   Someone who is dearer than 'Dearest'

I never believed in Magic. Now I do.
I never saw the beauty in poetry. Now I do.
I never knew for sure if souls connected. Now I do.
I never knew I could step out of the walls I built around myself. Now I do.
I never knew I could let time go by, waiting and not regret it. Now I do.
I never knew what it was to be fully alive. Now I do.
I never knew I could write this to you. Now I do.

I never knew it would be you. Now I do.

It is You.

Love Always,

The Epilogue

 

  

Walk through the garden behind the mansion, letting the lawn kiss your feet. Listen to the nature...pulsating with the energy of Love...love that brought  two ordinary human beings together and transformed their life into a fairy tale. 

As you approach their graves, let your footsteps be soft...for their souls lie there locked in an eternal moment of silence. Sit beside the tombstones and wipe off the autumn leaves showered by the trees that cover the epitaph which reads...

"And they lived happily ever after..."

The Free Bird

I am approaching her. I am trying to resist myself along the way. But I have to control my desire to resist. I cannot bear it anymore. I cannot bear to see her in pain anymore. For, it is my heart that aches when I see her in pain. I sit by her, cold and numb. There was a time when this proximity used to make me feel warm. But now, it feels damp. It is like a morning in winter when, even the rays of the sun seem to be cold and helpless. She is mute but restless. Yet I can hear the suppressed cries of her heart. The paroxysm of agony is making me number. I am looking into her eyes which probably detests me…eyes which can only see the distance even in this proximity. I am deceiving myself. I am trying to get as close to her as possible ignoring those iron rods that separates me from her. I do not want to see them. Why are these iron rods here? They maybe parts of the cage. I hate them. But I used to love them before. I loved them for keeping her safe…for protecting her by keeping her away from rest of the world…for keeping her with me. But I hate them now for coming in between both of us…the same reason why she loves them now… for keeping me from getting any closer. Why does she not want me to get closer? Why is she so restless? After all she is my White Dove. MY white dove. MY bird.

My little white dove which has always symbolized peace and love is not at peace anymore. She is hitting the bars of the cage with her wings to draw my attention to it. She is tired of hitting the bars again and again. Beautiful white feathers are getting ripped off her wings each time they crash into those iron bars. I can see hatred and fear blending in her eyes as she looks at me. How much more cruel can I be? I am still avoiding looking at the iron bars. I am continuing to deceive myself.

She thinks I am cruel. The whole world, brimming with hapless spectators who do nothing but butcher stories behind closed doors, would also think I am cruel. But I know that I am not. The purity of my thoughts and innocence of my actions are like coins lying in a wish pond. Who would really care about a few pennies lying at the bottom of the rocks? They would never surface up again. Even the fishes would ignore them. Of what use can a penny be to a fish?

I have been trying all the while to protect her, to keep her secure, to care for her and love her. But I could not see how my care and love was turning into a cage that incarcerated her. She has become my prisoner. I failed to understand that she is a bird…that God has given her wings to fly…that he would somehow take care of her. He is the protector, not me.  Maybe she did feel secure for a while but not anymore. It is suffocating her. My cage made up of love and care is rusting.

My fingers are clasping the rusting iron bars. She has stopped beating her wings…perhaps fearing that I would reach for them and tear them off. But how can I ever do that? How can I tell her that I would never do that? Each time I reached for those wings, it was to caress them. But I will not be able to do that anymore. She would rather choose to die inside this rusting cage than be caressed by me.

It is time to make a choice. I can keep her locked up with me, exhibiting a false pride which may camouflage the turmoil in my heart…or…I can unlock the cage and let her fly away. My heart is beating fast. My thoughts have come to a standstill. I know it now. I know why my heart is beating fast. It had made the choice even before I approached her.

My hands are trembling now…I can see them grabbing the old keys and unlocking the cage. The lock is about to come off. Should I be really doing this? I am feeling so tempted to keep the cage locked. I do know that it is of no use yet this temptation is trying to come in the way of my decision.

The silence has been broken by the creaking sound of the cage opening. I did not realize my hands unlocking while my mind debated. My bird is not moving…she seems shocked…shocked with disbelief. I am waiting and watching…not knowing what to expect. Is she going to stay? No she isn’t. She is slowly gathering herself … and now perching on the edge. She will fly away now. I am looking into her eyes hoping that she does not hate me as much as she used to… hoping that she would show me some gratitude for letting her go if not for all the care and love. But her eyes are distant.

There…she flies away… She did not turn back for the last glance. She is spreading her wings and fluttering them rapidly… getting away… away from the cage… away from me. She is a free bird.

This cage is of no use to me… I am leaving it here. As I step back… I am experiencing something strange. I think I know what it is. It is not sadness. It is freedom. All the while I thought I had kept my white dove caged. But it was I, who was incarcerated. I had caged myself. I was inside the cage deceiving myself to believe that I am outside. By letting my white dove fly away, I had set myself free.

I am a free bird now.

Something called...Love

Since the time I have been writing, many of my close friends have been waiting for me to write something about the most sensational topic in the world...Love!

I wonder why they are so curious to know what I think about something so strange. Perhaps, the very fact that it is strange is what makes people interested in it. I have been reading a couple of articles written by my friends on their blogs and have been thinking of putting down my thoughts too. Finally, I have convinced myself to sit down and do it. I have finally failed in my attempt to evade the topic!

To begin with, let me tell you, I am an idealist. I have an idealistic approach to everything in life, including Love. I have always believed that Love is sacrosanct. But strangely, it has revealed itself around me in many different ways that are not so congruent with my idealistic beliefs.

I know of some of my very close friends...their fragile hearts were smitten with Love. And as Kahlil Gibran says it, ' then came Satan and drove them out of the Paradise of Love '. Their hearts shattered into a thousand pieces. After the tempest died, they sat in the darkness hoping for a ray of hope. Some of them just gave up on it and let the wind blow away the shattered pieces lying strewn all over. Some optimists, picked up the pieces and tried putting them together as though playing a jigsaw puzzle which they can never comprehend.

On the other hand there are people who can conveniently trample over those fragile hearts and confidently justify their actions. These people seem to be like jugglers juggling with hearts.

I know that atleast when it comes to Love, there are many idealists like me. And for us idealists, assimilation of certain modern day theories become difficult. But I have realised that this thing called Love has a 'psycho-socio' dimension to it. And if we take this into consideration, it may seem that the concept of Love has been treated with a lot of hypocrisy. It is said that Love has everything to do with the heart...originates from the heart and terminates at the heart. But looking at the trend, one may be rest assured that every thing in between the beginning and the end has something to do with the brain, society etc... and least with 'heart'.

Yes, for idealists its hard to believe that distance can break relationships, but the fact is that in many cases it does. Its impossible in the story books for the princess or the prince to fall in Love with someone else, but outside the books, its very much possible. One of my very good friends recently told me that its possible for a person who is in Love with someone to have an infatuation for someone else. My idealism questioned this.. but that fact is that it happens. I have heard people say, "its perfectly fine to have crushes outside your relationships". I wonder how?! The other day I read an article in the paper which states a new discovery by some scientists somewhere in the world that flirting..even outside your relationship can be good for you. Don't scientists have anything better to do?

And I must not forget to include one of the most important aspects which can make or break relationships. Money! (i now think Love has a psycho-socio & economic dimension too!!) I guess the more we look into it, the more factors will appear...achievements, capability, dreams, space etc etc all play their respective roles. It always begins with the heart...and then there is everything except the heart, in it.

Finally I am forced to conclude that Love is not absolute. It is subjective...subjective in terms of perceptions, decisions & experiences. Each one can interpret it differently and experience it differently. Its best if we remember that it is not an Axiom.

As for me, the more I try to figure this out, the more complicated and dreadful it gets. I feel my understanding of Love when I was 15 years old was far better than what it is now because... it was innocent. I was ignorant of the darker sides of paradise. I could only see the beauty. I could believe only in the purity. Maybe that's why its said...sometimes ignorance is bliss.

And now, leaving each one to his own, I return to where I belong...the story book...where the Prince & the Princess are locked in the sacred bliss of Love. The perfect Love which the 15 year old within me still believes in. I will rather be happy with my eyes shut than be sad with my eyes open...