Whenever people ask me, have you ever been in love? I lie. I say I have never. Although the profound truth is, I’ve fallen in love so many times that now I have lost count. Before you denominate me as a bitch who falls in love everyday with every other guy, or perhaps appropriately a slut, read ahead (:P).
I used to think a lot as every writer does about whether this idealistic love everyone is so eager to portray in his/her writings does really exist? I came to a conclusion that love is just an ordinary word – which has various complex perspectives according to different people – existing everywhere like the almighty, you just need to observe your environment, not even observe, just watch, not even watch, just see, not even see, just look perhaps with only one eye! I bet you all have fallen in love without even realising it and that’s also because we have over-rated this word. We associate love generally-always with an intimate human bond, with two people not caring about the world when they are together, blah, blah, blah! So technically in those terms I have never fallen in love (:P). And the first line of my poem/ article/ whatever you call this write-up, starts with the contradiction!
I’ve fallen in love a million times,
From that cute guy with braces in metro who offered me his seat seeing I had lots of shopping bags manoeuvred around my body,
To the kid in my colony with two teeth in the centre trying to smile with a lollipop in his mouth when his gaze turned towards me,
To the old couple who walked past me, helping each other to move and take another step – perhaps in love till now – oblivious to me,
To my old neighbour whose wife died a month ago but still reserves a bold grin for me whenever I meet him,
To that person who doesn’t know me, yet forces my lips to curve,
To that pigeon who wasn’t afraid and didn’t take a flight when I walked past her,
To that fallen eyelash which made my wish come true (loosing the contact from her beholder to fulfil my want),
To that flower who lost his life to preserve the favourite lines of the favourite page of my favourite book,
To the woman who gave me advice by herself doing something wrong,
To that waiter who thanked me infinite times when I gave him a small tip,
To that proud rickshaw puller who upon insisting told me about his children studying and that his family savoured two meals every day (there was a queer charm on his face while narrating his story),
To that stray dog who followed me when I went to buy groceries, (he escorted me back to my house too)!
I am truly enamoured of every little nice thing that happened around me, though not always related to me. Reader, see around yourself whenever you are feeling low, perhaps take a walk and nature will fill your heart with love!