Skip to main content

Love

What is love? We all do ask,right? Here I try to break down a few ideologies about this feeling!

Love is about bottomless empathy, born out of the heart’s revelation that another person is every bit as real as you are. And this is why love, as I understand it, is always specific. Trying to love all of humanity may be a worthy endeavor, but, in a funny way, it keeps the focus on the self, on the self’s own moral or spiritual well-being. Whereas, to love a specific person, and to identify with his or her struggles and joys as if they were your own, you have to surrender some of your self.

The big risk here, of course, is rejection. 

We can all handle being disliked now and then, because there’s such an infinitely big pool of potential likers. But to expose your whole self, not just the likable surface, and to have it rejected, can be catastrophically painful. The prospect of pain generally, the pain of loss, of breakup, of death, is what makes it so tempting to avoid love and stay safely in the world of liking.

And yet pain hurts but it doesn’t kill. When you consider the alternative — an anesthetized dream of self-sufficiency, abetted by technology — pain emerges as the natural product and natural indicator of being alive in a resistant world. To go through a life painlessly is to have not lived. Even just to say to yourself, “Oh, I’ll get to that love and pain stuff later, maybe in my late 20s” is to consign yourself to 10 years of merely taking up space on the planet and burning up its resources. Of being (and I mean this in the most damning sense of the word) a consumer.

Facebook: Baraka Lines




Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

WHY I WRITE

My literary ambitions are mixed up with feelings of being isolated and undervalued. I know I have a facility for words and a power of facing unpleasant facts and situations, and I feel that I’ve created some sort of private life in literature in which I can get my own back for my failures, especially academically, in my everyday life. I do not only report to others but also to myself first and foremost. I like the communication aspect of writing since it gives me a ‘somewhat’ safe platform to question the authority, societal rules, culture and identity.  I write not only to find a way into the world but also to hold it away from me so that sheer, senseless events would not devour me. I usually feel this powerful adrenaline rush and if I am in bed, I jump out and reach for my ever present pen, a paper and my old flashlight in order to pen down my sentiments. As most writers have sagely implied, during that compulsive state of inspiration, I replica a pregnant woman in labour pa...
Read more

A feeling called LOVE!

You walked away without looking back, And I hoped that, Wherever you went, whenever it was, Even if the orange sun didn’t rise, From the magnificent eastern horizon, That you’d never forget, That you were once, mine, That we once treasured, feelings. I hoped that in your tempestuous future,  In our parallel futures, We may look back with eyes wet from, crying, Weeping torrents of tears, We may glance back, Reckon, In sadness, With pain, That we once were, lovers. I remember the dreams that we fondly, shared, Yes! We once shared, And amidst my grueling sobs, My agonizing sorrows, I can only hope, treading, knowing, That we once shared a feeling, a tenacious feeling, a feeling called LOVE . What is love ? Just a four letter word? What is thi tantalizing feeling? This feeling called love!?
Read more