By Sanchita Gupta:
I often wonder what love actually is. Is it what binds my mother and me together or is it something that keeps me awake all night waiting for someone’s text? Perception of Love is relative, with time and type of the relationship. Someone may be of utmost importance but with passage of time he may become insignificant, may what reason be. It may be his deeds, our understanding, or simply someone else replaces him. Our blood relations also do not guarantee the eternal love. Is Love what I feel when I walk alone in the rain? I don’t know what I think or feel but it makes me feel beautiful and beautifies the things around. Is love when I can smell my mom when I miss her while in the hostel?
Is love when I call some old friend just out of the blue because I felt I was needed? We meet so many people everyday but there is just one we fall in love with, the same qualities we have seen before but this time we fell for them. Suddenly our whole world revolves around that one single person, who out of nowhere becomes everything for us, to the point that we can leave the world and its bonds for them. Love is the coming together of two minds, who, fit in like a puzzle, complimenting the other side of each other. It doesn’t necessarily have to end in marriage or eternity or some other definition. It is far more superior and deep than these worldly needs.
With the bond comes the sacrifice. Sacrifice of certain expectations, sacrifice of some moments, sacrifice that go unnoticed, all in the name of love. A wife cooks, cleans, toils everyday and is only appreciated either on her birthday or the anniversary. I don’t know how to feel about it. It is happy to see that she is satisfied with her life. But it makes me sad to put myself in her shoes and let my efforts unnoticed. Maybe this is what love is, selfless and self-appreciating. We always say that love just happens, it’s not pre-decided; then, when did my grandparents, who met for the first time at their marriage venue, fell in love? Before they could know each other, they were told they were made for each other. An arranged love but still with the same intensity as those who took years of togetherness to know and decide. With each new birth comes a new definition of love. I guess, love can never be explained or maybe it doesn’t need to be. Each has his own way of exchanging love. What I may see as lonesomeness may be peace for you. What I may take as quickness maybe eternity for you.