A shot.. Love

I sit on my chair right now.. I a wearing my usual night dress.. my spectatcles in their usual front of my eyes.. Me typing.. Usual sight..
And so wrong as well !!

Right now, at this moment, everything for me has become miraculously cold.. I had this feeling about exactly a year back, and about exactly another year back.. I have been a fighter all my life, trying to avoid all the mistakes I have committed in my past..
And yes, I have been successful enough not to repeat them all, but only to wander through new roads of sufferance.

I dont really know why I really am existing. I dont feel any reason for myself to do so. The Geeta says it right- Karmanyevaadhikaarastey Maa Faleshu Kadaachana. It rightfully means that Do everything and exercise all your rights, But never expect a fruit.

For an ardent fan of mangoes like me, today it seems like opening up and cutting every mango in the world and finding it full of worms... Worms that destruct all the sweetness of the mango. But still, look at the mango, it did its work of being sweet. No matter how ungrateful the worms are, the mango remains to be sweet. No matter how cruel a crushing hand is, but it still is scented by the fragrance of the crushed flower. No matter how vain the moon may become and cast an eclipse shadow on the sun, the sun still is what it was earlier. In fact not just that, but it also continues to enlighten the moon.

What I want to say is, dont they understand love?
Doesnt the worm understand that it would die if the mango doesnt feed him? It's mango's love.
Doesnt the hand understand that it is so rustic without the floral scent? It's the flower's love.
Doesnt the moon understand that it is lightless and lifeless without the sun? It's the sun's love.

Why cant love be responded? Why cant somebody hear when I shout and scream and cry and yell and beg? It's my love. And inspite of being eaten or crushed or shadowed, that love still remains. It is love that runs the world. Aren't we formed out of the love between our parents? Werent we nurtured by our mother's love? Dont we have everything to share with friends who love us so much? Dont we have a partner with whom we are whatever we are not? Then why cant anybody understand this love? And is it really a fault to love?

When you care for somebody inspite of how they are to you, that's love. When you bear somebody inspite of that person not understanding you, that's love. When you just walk from outside the road and let your love be in, just for you don't want them hurt, baby, then that's love. When you just see into somebody's eyes, and you remain silent, but everything is talked without words, that's love. When you want somebody to be with you in whatever your endeavours are, that's love. When you are there to support somebody in all their blues, that's love. Love isn't just a phrase to say I Love You. There's such a whole depth behind it. ANd when you really don't know how deep you are in it, but you still are in it, that's love. When you don't sleep a whole night because you have been worried about that person the whole day, that's love. When you don't look at anybody other than that person, because you feel guilty, that's love.

It's nothing less than that, my dear...
It's all about love.



I'm not great or good or nice or beautiful or charming or pleasant or wise by any means. I accept I'm not worthy of anything half as good as you.
But love simply is.


November 25th, 2008
8-40pm.