Yesternight, I had a chat with a lady friend. Beautiful in thoughts and equally beautiful otherwise. We were talking on love. What does one do when in love? We all know how the poets paint the picture of a burning moon and snowing sun while talking of the state of being in love. It doesn’t happen, it just reads great.
The outcome of the talk was that people feel happy while in love, they are carefree. Love buys junk food from outside and talks about immaterial things sitting on a couch. Love eats dinner in day and watched TV during the nights. It doesn’t matter what does the TV show, love is unaware and careless about the goings on of the world. It doesn’t watch American war in Afghanistan. But love isn’t insensitive. Love might not read about terrorism but it does get sad to hear about it.
Love attends classes, takes part in events, and gets tired all day long. And then, love sits with your friends fooling around and joking. Love makes love, kisses and lovingly touches as well. Love is not the primary thing in love. Love is being together, love is talking together, love is waking up at one in night with a helmet in hand saying, “Let’s go out, let’s take a ride.”
Love cares least about what place it would ride to. Love drives the bike, and at times, sits in the back. Love sings in your ears and whispers just below your ears, “Let’s go to India Gate.” And as you drive to that route, love changes its mind and says, “I want to eat parathas at Nizammuddin.” Love stuns you, tires you out but doesn’t get tired.
Love scolds and gets scolded, it hides and vanishes, gets scared and gets audacious with the brother. Love is sacred. Love doesn’t offer namaaz or rings the holy bells. Love offers namaaz and rings the holy bells. For love the tangible is absent and the absent takes forms. Love hides itself from love, love reveals itself to love. Love laughs and cries. Love is complex and simple. Love is solid like a solid and fluid like a fluid.
While in love it is difficult to wait, love is aware even in sleep. What happens while in love is a dream. Love is the next destination after dream. Love is more beautiful than a dream and more handsome than reality.