Disclaimer: All the characters in this article are fictional to a
convenient degree. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is slightly
coincidental.
The winters and its accessories
Sleeveless jackets, confused shivers and increasing cups of teas and
coffee all are perfect needles that point toward the winter’s setting in. Interestingly,
winter is a season where most love stories thrive or perish. I wrote a year
back about the one side of love, almost in the same season. That was perhaps
the setting in of many things in my life, yes of course, including the winters.
This time, it is the termination of the very things that started then. We know
human nature is complex. Our mind works in a complex manner, our actions guided
by love for our own self, disguised in various reasons or excuses. I know there
are many books written around pure love, break ups, infidelity, heart breaks
and even on resulting deaths. Perhaps, the high number of such books are
indicative of how frequent are these occurring.
The Cliché
I have a friend named Aarti. She is a lady of sound economic sense,
probably a virtue rooted in her middle class upbringing. She is rationally religious;
however, a little rigid on what defines ethical way of life, not given to any
activity considered sin in middle age India. Unfortunately, last winter, she
met with an accident. Fatal as it is, some puritans call it love.
She is that traditional lover you probably find only in the classic
love stories. ‘All for one boy’ and dedicates her all to him, despite being
conservative. She is sweet and almost an angel to her partner, showering her unconditional,
unequivocal love daily with indefatigable vigour.
For one year, the love never dipped, in fact increased exponentially
beyond her own expectations. Her feelings of love remained the same, however,
the methods improved. From expressing love through daily messages on phone to
emails of love and then to the hand written, calligraphic letters, she made moments
special for him. Her methods became novel to an extent, where she wrote in
Hindi a letter for her boy-friend (long after the Hindi classes become just a
reminiscence in our lives). His birthday
became more important than hers, his happiness became reasons to smile, his
phone call became the most valued asset , his family became hers and his
priorities took special place in her heart. She never let any stone unturned.
She was a girl who tried to live in limited means, but always tried to optimize
those limited means to make him feel loved. When it was his 28th
birthday, she celebrated a week in advance, doing things she could never do
before – preparing a dish daily for her beloved, writing a letter daily and
waking up early to be the first to wish. She never knew how to bake a cake, but
the birthday saw a hand made cake, full of sweetness of love, melting in the
chocolate of dedication. It was a chocolate cake, she made on the base of
biscuits and ornamented it as well as she could plan with tablets of gems to
write the initials of his name on the cake. Though, he left it unfinished, she
felt that his kiss was a reward for her, his smile was reason for her to plan
the next birthday, though that birthday was never to come. She slept just two
hours that day, so that he felt special, and he surely showed he did. However,
her own birthday was not the same. She expected love, care and some promises.
They never came. In fact, many of her hopes shattered, and realizations dawned.
In all fairness, he was a good man, appeared genuine and truthful. She had
considered him her God. He promised nothing, but just that he would love her
always, daily and forever. However, she
did not know that the love can easily be substituted by lifestyle. He found a
better girl, one who could satisfy his needs, could drive a Mercedes to his
parents and party late night with the like ‘minted’ friends. She was helpless
and could just not accept that her boy-friend never fought for her. When he met
a girl , he “moved on” in a few days if not minutes (she would never know). How
could have she accepted it! It was hard for her. But she loved him. She cried
for hours at length, her friends were there for her, some rude, some consoling,
some loving, while others abused him. All were honest though. She wished him
well for life, though I do not think she will ever forgive him for what he did.
It’s up to us to realize and note if ‘classic’ way of loving works anymore, or
we should just be ‘no strings attached’. I wish I knew the answer to this.
Surely, should I know , I will pen it down.
Meanwhile …
She left a note to him before she receded into the oblivion:
"My life, my oxygen, I am sure what you want from life is important for
you. For so long I have lived in your heart , my breath synchronized with your
heartbeats I have seen the world through your eyes, smelled the beauty that the
world is through your senses. You made my life beautiful and special, something
that I could not for you. Now I find myself homeless, driven away from your
life. On bad days I had you to love me. On good ones, you were there to share
the joy with. I cry as someone died. Look through my eyes, and someone actually
did. The most precious jewel I had was
you – most serene , caring and an angel. I have been a fan of your ways, as
your gf, lover or just as a friend. Your touch was enough to tell me that “all
is ok”. Now I do not have the touch, hence I cry. I miss making you smile, miss
your dumb jokes, miss your alluding to historical facts, miss your holding me
tight, your heart, your lips , your smell. I kiss my own hands and weep for
hours, because I do not have yours. Hence, I cry. My anger was checked by you
and how dare I shout at you , pain you. I cry so much because so much is left
undone. Everytime I see people holding hands, taking a walk, kissing, making
love, I only think of one thing – your eyes. The winters was where it all
started. How won’t the fog, delays in going back to home, warmth, roses on 31st
December, not remind me of how more beautiful could we be. It started with your
tears, might well end with mine. How will I write to you that you are more
beautiful than the God, how your suit is a little different today, how you are
looking like a prince on the day of our wedding, how will I tell you that I
wish that these ceremonies get over at the earliest so that you can hug me, how
will we nurture the future of our kids together – a balanced upbringing. Now
“I” will be someone else. Hence I cry. Sweet love, deep love, small fights, big
cries – all were us. Never are relationships free of problems, but the people
are the solution. I cannot change my
background. You left me for that. I want to do everything, with you as my
companion. Hence I cry. Now I do not see you wait for me, bring back that car
to pick me up when I could not wish you a Bye , I do not know how to live
without your eyes, lips, hugs and your presence. How will I comfort you if you
see a bad dream. You are the best and no one can be as good. With or without
me, that is a reality that won’t change. My letters will now have a different
signature, you will compare moon with someone else, breeze and good weather
will remind you of someone you have chosen. No “reached home?”, “where are
you?”, “How’s work? “What-are-you-doing?”, neither singing for each other at
nights , caring in the least about the lyrics or the tune. Someone else will
whisper to you in your ears in the mornings, hold you and you will hold her
back, and she won’t be your “Aarti”. Hence I cry. Take care my Grace, my love"
Love Vs Louis Vuitton
Many a times when we discuss the breaking up of trust, the guys are
mostly blamed. However, is that so? Have we all not seen guys cry after their girlfriends
breach their trust? Yes, we have. I think, this is more to do with the
individual personality than gender. I have a little knowledge through an
acquaintance
Aman, a friend , is a man devoid of essential elements one considers
integral for a boy to ‘grow up’ (euphemism used in public interest). In his
case, his Santro worked perfectly well and won many races , beating the BMWs.
Overconfident that he would make ‘love’ define life, starts his pursuit to
happiness. Lucky he, his sweetheart (named Pavitra by her parents)
had some other plans. How well he talked to me about how beautiful she is, how
her smile makes his days cheerful, how waiting for her was the best things he
has spent time on, how plucking flowers from inaccessible places been the most
adventurous activity, how believing in her was the best conviction he had, more
than God his faith resided with Pavitra. However,
Pavitra chose LV over Love. I, unfortunately,
do not have much detail on his story. Novelty
attached in his life was that Pavitra chose a phone call to announce to him
about her finding a suitable match. Also, I know that he very well sang for her Ronan
Keating’s “When you say nothing at all” and that is favorite lines were:
“The smile on your face lets me know that you need me
There’s a truth in your eyes saying you’ll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me whenever I fall”
However, he realized that the smiles were deceitful; the truth was
never there, hands never held him with care and the love was never what he had
thought it to be. Perhaps, he loved a girl that never existed, just like in Aarti’s
case it was just the illusion of love.
The End
Perhaps captioning the section “The End” is the only novelty attached to
this article. All mentioned through the stories are profound, has happened either
with us or with one of our closest. How much a human heart can love a person,
is a matter that is best left placid. The power in a relationship lies with the
person who loves ‘less’. We will have our prejudices. One person tells me that boys look for girls
who are a – available; b – beautiful and girls look for boys who are a – rich;
b – richer. This is one formula you can validate or counter based on your own
lives. Clearly in the cases of Aarti and
Aman, their partners needed some things better, perhaps even gave in to
infidelity to break the two hearts. If I were to opine, I would say that Love
should be the chariot of life. ‘Love’ in all senses – for everyone around you. You should wish well for however bad your
partner has done , even if she is an infidel or fooled around with you for some
pleasure or better still experimented with you to see if you fit the bill.
The broader question one needs to ask is whether we, as a society, are
becoming selfish, disregarding the virtues of love. Have the materialism of
luxurious life substituted the regards for one’s care? Are the two antagonists
representatives of the society that we have become – not caring for the partner
who you spent so much of time with? One year seems good enough for people to
take a call that they cannot spend the life with people who they claim to have
loved, however, the same people, in a couple of meetings accept to spend the
life with a stranger (the net worth of these individuals + that of their dads
play an integral role in these “yeses” ) . I wish we live in a world where no
girl hurts a guy, sets wrong expectations , plays with the emotions he was to
cherish for life, plays with his life that was more hers than his and no girl suggests
“move on by living life normally” and then by action gets married to
another making mockery of every memory they had. Likewise, nothing is more pure
than a girl’s loving heart. There should not be any tears over
misunderstanding, no one should curb her smiles, no one should leave her alone.
Hope we hold each other’s hands, tightly and with conviction, promising to let
the love triumph. In a utopian wish, I hope all true love stories meet the ‘correct’
end.
Special thanks to:
Somya for your inputs, Dhruv for your support, Kanishka for your mockery, Tanvi
for the cake, Kritika for your LV vs Love fundamental + your inputs, Gandharv
for helping me with the name Aarti and people who have inspired me to write
this (both the ‘practical-it-won’t -work’ ones and the ‘love-will-solve-everything’
ones)
