I was very bubbly and cracking jokes with my buddies on my trip to Munnar, until I heard this particular song ‘en veetu thotathil’ from film ‘Gentleman’. It took away all my enthusiasm but filled with a mysterious feeling which ignited butterflies in my stomach. It took me to a new world of imagination that filled with heart wrecking joy. I know why. It reminded me of my school days. I remembered the precious couple of hours when I got time to speak to her which contained no worthy topics. I remembered the nights that filled with the memories of the talking sessions. I could remember my successful chase of my moped with her car for a desperate attempt to get a glimpse and acknowledging smile. I know this is kind of weird behaviors that I followed then, but those behaviors gave immense pleasures those days that even abundance of money could not give today. The environment was so strong that even a song from that era has the power to give similar feelings. Will you call this feeling love?
Before a couple of days to my trip to Kodai, I was spending a full two days with my kid Nakshathira. She was completely with me that even to go to toilet I need to use my imagination to find excuses. She was sitting there in my office opposite to me for the whole day playing with my rubber bands and clips. I played with her ‘ringa ringa roses’, I participated in a running race where I ran slowly to let her win. (Occasionally I also won as I want her to understand reality). I kept her on my shoulder to let her have a nice glimpse of the procession going on the street. When I was in Kodai, my wife called and said she couldn’t handle her. She was true. I could hear her loud cry in the background. She snatched the phone from her mom and said amidst the cry that she needs me there now. And not a minute late. Is the feeling that I got after the phone call is love?
I remember the way my mother took care of me when I was sick for a while inspite of her rheumatoid arthritis painful fingers. The pride she shows in her eyes even for the smallest achievements her son gets. And all the sacrifice that she made so far for the betterment of her son. I don’t have to spend more words to explain a mothers affection as it is well understood. Is this love?
In a programme, under a hypothetical situation, I was supposed to write a letter to my beloved one from my death bed. For some reasons I chose to write to my father. And I cried while writing that letter. Yes, I cried after a long long time. I din’t know why. Is this feeling Love?
One of my good friends said he saw his old close associate in Madurai a while ago. He was married to a widow whom he loved and because of that he was chased away from home. He was leading a wonderful and luxury life before marriage and now he was suffering even for survival. My friend said, ‘Why didn’t he ask me for help'. He was even ready to offer some big money to get him a nice future. I became little sentimental after hearing this. Is this feeling love?
Few years back, myself and my friend developed an altercation with a bus driver for driving recklessly on the road. Unfortunately they developed a gang of twenty against us two. The situation became so intense that the argument will turn into a fight. From nowhere a gentle man of 45 years came from the crowd and said “don’t go beyond argument. What wrong that those guys said” and got us away from the site. I haven’t seen him before. I didn’t know why he supported us and rescued out of that mess. Is this called love?
I remembered all those nasty things I told to my wife. I don’t think anyone would take those ego shattering words so easily. If it was a friend I am sure he would have bid goodbye early. But she is with me all the time. Is this called love?
How can we call the affection that we show to our beloved ones as love? Isn’t that feeling comes because of the possessiveness and selfishness that they are ours? In other words, don’t we show that affection because we treat them as MY relatives? Isn’t that MY factor comes before love? So how can we call that as love? Love should accompany with no expectations and so the love shown by the stranger is the true one.
Once I finished writing this, the rebel inside me said, “Shut up. For once keep away from your maniac analysis. Whoever did whatever to keep anyone happy is love. Love is beyond analysis. Whoever spends time analyzing will never find time to love. Stop analyzing and start loving”
I believe for once the rebel inside me is right.
With all your encouragements and support, finally my illution that my writing has improved, may turn true. Yes. the previous post 'DOGS TOO DISCRIMINATE' got selected for BlogAdda's 'Spicy saturday pick' again on Aug 15. Thanks pals.
Image Courtesy: http://www.smashingapps.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/love-wallpaper.jpg