Story of likeness and trust! Chapter-26
Would your eyes, look into my soul?
Would your pain, reach to my eyes?
I care, for your love, tonight.
I said to myself. I heard myself singing these tones whole night, until my dream broke off, when my alarm bell rung and I was awake, sad for the dream to be left incomplete. I had been singing my heart out in the dream, that was and wasn't my reality. I had been singing it for my lost love, whom I had found after years; but was it love still, was the intensity in the emotions just like before? Hadn't things changed for her, if not for me? Did I want to be with her, to define my love of her. No, I didn't want to be closer to her. I couldn't let my dreams of love be shattered, with the reality of love. I never knew for that matter, what was to become of our story. Whether a turn, towards our togetherness or just like it had been, that the distance would increase yet again? I had slept with these thoughts, and in my dreams I had been there in the same land of an unknown, was it love or was it just an attraction? Why was life so complex, or was it that I saw it in that definite pattern? Why did I think too much? Did I know that I was losing so much in this attitude that I had been leading throughout my life? Who was I and what defined my identity, that moment I asked myself.
That morning brought along,
images of the past,
that how in a day,
my world had been turned around.
It was about that specific moment,
that my trust in my love,
greeted me back for another chance.
I had composed a song in my high school, I remembered that song at that very moment; it was filled with emotions, unknown of what name to give these emotions. But what did those songs mean to me? They were and are, the companions through my highs and lows to me; my songs.
"I knowest not,
in awful numbers,
life is but an empty dream,
from love to happiness,
what decrees, is a heart,
full of grief. I lookest not,
in awful numbers,
but this life is better,
only when I dream.
I love you,
not in empty numbers,
for me your love,
is all what sends,
joys and belief.
I knowest not in awful numbers,
yet I know, what you feel for me."
Devika and I had met at the same conclusion that, with people we always learnt, we learnt life. How it was to be lived, and how it came to us with surprises. Sometimes, it was all bloom in the field of affection and then, the world was all grey. Colours had mattered so much to me, those colours which saw me in a different foray every time. I remembered one of my former colleague that moment. Her sayings had been stored in my head, and those came back to me one after the other in sequence of a fashion. Shweta always told me that she never wanted to be in love and that she prayed, she would stay away from it. She had feared love all the way more. When I asked her, why she had such attitude towards love, she would tell me, 'See Gagan. I have always found people in agony, those people who have been in love. So, why to be in love, when you know that all that you get from it is a certain level of pain. That, in love people were hurt.' She told me, that it was better to keep distance from love.
That was Shweta's interpretation of love, but I didn't agree to it well enough. I wanted to contradict her statement but soon I realised that whatever she had been saying, was so true even in my case. Or was it, that my case was completely different from any other lover's. Were the two of us really lovers? Anyway, we had belonged to the same group of people, who had dreamt of love, to spring into their lives.
Everyone would be having their own perspective about love, that depended upon, what all experiences they led through in their lives. Or, as Shweta's case had been, to witness her friends, and people around her in suffering; that she wanted to keep distance from that instrument, that was called the most powerful instrument in this world; love!
On an occasion when I had another discussion with my colleague, on the same topic 'love', she lashed out yet again at me. I was baffled this time. I also didn't stay quiet, but I wasn't as rude as her. She had almost lost the belief in love. So, I had wanted to restore it in her. She told me, that I had been trying to maintain my stand because I had been a lover once, unlike her. To this, I replied her in most cordial manner I could, that, "Dear, Shweta. This world is made of numerous creations, well you have no count for the number of things around you. In those things are many more things. As you go on classifying them, on the basis of their names, the list goes on and on; it doesn't end at all or anywhere. Every atom, every molecule, has a presence of their own in this world. Similarly, the sun is always bringing to us a morning, as moon brings us night; not that I go on in scientific terms to describe the pattern of moon or sun to you. But what I am trying to tell you is that, if you praise beauty then it is love. The colours around us, the seasons around us, the clouds, the stars and the sun, they all have an impact upon us humans. We get life, food to eat. Who brings us that? Don't you think that there is some force, some spiritual connection that makes it all happen and come alive in this big world? That, flowers grow in a definite pattern that we can categorise them, on the basis of their characteristics. If this isn't love, then what is; I wonder Shweta. Love is undying and ever present"
She replied to me, "Man, what's your problem. I am terming the love between two people. The love, that brings us pain and never heals that broken passage in our hearts. I am talking of that pain. Pain in love. Why do you talk of this spiritual connection between stars and sun, being compared to two human beings?"
Me: Shweta, I say so; because that is the spiritual connection I am also talking of between two people who feel attraction towards each other. People give reasons to others to live for, they bring smile on each other's faces; are there with each other in their difficult times, and in their embrace is love, that is eternal. It is unconditional. Such people are in this world who believe in true love. Even if their love, for that matter doesn't come to them, what comes is a way to live life. Love, teaches us how to live life.
Shweta: Okay, so you will preach me now? Huh! Tell me one thing, has your love been fulfilled?
Me: Yeah, I have loved, and I lead a perfect love story. I sing for her, songs, when I get back home.
Shweta: Dude, either you have lost it or you are high on drugs! Any of the two, I am damn sure. Go and get a treatment. If I have to love someone, I will love my mother. Alright? I don't need a special someone to show me the path of life. Moreover, preaching me on how to live life.
Pause.
Shweta: Wait, Gagan. Do you have M.P.D?
Me: Yeah, I have. You want that as well?
Shweta: Oh, you really have that. No thank you, keep it to yourself. You crazy creature. I will fix an appointment of yours, with a doctor as soon as possible mate. But, why didn't you consult a doctor yet? May I please know your specified reasons, for my general knowledge?
Me: Why would I go to a doctor if I have M.P.D. I have it, at my home.
Shweta: Do you know how foolish you're looking, as you are saying that? What is M.P.D. Do you know, its definition? Oh, leave aside you even don't know about its full form. Pity you!
Me: Yeah, it is with proper definition; Music Player Daemon (MPD) is a flexible, powerful, server-side application for playing music. Through plugins and libraries it can play a variety of sound files while being controlled by its network protocol.
Shweta: God, M.P.D is; multiple personality disorder (MPD). I think, you have that. Check on with the definition of it, it means you have multiple identities.
With all that humour in the end, I had described her my thoughts on love, and I had been happy that I did. I was a man, who was always believing in his instincts, waiting for the day for someone to prove me wrong but people couldn't help but make my belief in love ever broadened and beautified, by the nectar of their anger. I was happy to be that way, waiting and waiting for the calling of my life; to renew what had been missing in my life. Yes, there was a patch that needed to be healed, and I knew, a miracle was to happen or was it only, that I would learn the truth of life by experience, of getting the pain myself. I played my guitar as I entered my room, as a daily ritual in those days. I was happy, peaceful and music was what gave me life and memories of someone, whom I called my love.
Would your pain, reach to my eyes?
I care, for your love, tonight.
I said to myself. I heard myself singing these tones whole night, until my dream broke off, when my alarm bell rung and I was awake, sad for the dream to be left incomplete. I had been singing my heart out in the dream, that was and wasn't my reality. I had been singing it for my lost love, whom I had found after years; but was it love still, was the intensity in the emotions just like before? Hadn't things changed for her, if not for me? Did I want to be with her, to define my love of her. No, I didn't want to be closer to her. I couldn't let my dreams of love be shattered, with the reality of love. I never knew for that matter, what was to become of our story. Whether a turn, towards our togetherness or just like it had been, that the distance would increase yet again? I had slept with these thoughts, and in my dreams I had been there in the same land of an unknown, was it love or was it just an attraction? Why was life so complex, or was it that I saw it in that definite pattern? Why did I think too much? Did I know that I was losing so much in this attitude that I had been leading throughout my life? Who was I and what defined my identity, that moment I asked myself.
That morning brought along,
images of the past,
that how in a day,
my world had been turned around.
It was about that specific moment,
that my trust in my love,
greeted me back for another chance.
I had composed a song in my high school, I remembered that song at that very moment; it was filled with emotions, unknown of what name to give these emotions. But what did those songs mean to me? They were and are, the companions through my highs and lows to me; my songs.
"I knowest not,
in awful numbers,
life is but an empty dream,
from love to happiness,
what decrees, is a heart,
full of grief. I lookest not,
in awful numbers,
but this life is better,
only when I dream.
I love you,
not in empty numbers,
for me your love,
is all what sends,
joys and belief.
I knowest not in awful numbers,
yet I know, what you feel for me."
Devika and I had met at the same conclusion that, with people we always learnt, we learnt life. How it was to be lived, and how it came to us with surprises. Sometimes, it was all bloom in the field of affection and then, the world was all grey. Colours had mattered so much to me, those colours which saw me in a different foray every time. I remembered one of my former colleague that moment. Her sayings had been stored in my head, and those came back to me one after the other in sequence of a fashion. Shweta always told me that she never wanted to be in love and that she prayed, she would stay away from it. She had feared love all the way more. When I asked her, why she had such attitude towards love, she would tell me, 'See Gagan. I have always found people in agony, those people who have been in love. So, why to be in love, when you know that all that you get from it is a certain level of pain. That, in love people were hurt.' She told me, that it was better to keep distance from love.
That was Shweta's interpretation of love, but I didn't agree to it well enough. I wanted to contradict her statement but soon I realised that whatever she had been saying, was so true even in my case. Or was it, that my case was completely different from any other lover's. Were the two of us really lovers? Anyway, we had belonged to the same group of people, who had dreamt of love, to spring into their lives.
Everyone would be having their own perspective about love, that depended upon, what all experiences they led through in their lives. Or, as Shweta's case had been, to witness her friends, and people around her in suffering; that she wanted to keep distance from that instrument, that was called the most powerful instrument in this world; love!
On an occasion when I had another discussion with my colleague, on the same topic 'love', she lashed out yet again at me. I was baffled this time. I also didn't stay quiet, but I wasn't as rude as her. She had almost lost the belief in love. So, I had wanted to restore it in her. She told me, that I had been trying to maintain my stand because I had been a lover once, unlike her. To this, I replied her in most cordial manner I could, that, "Dear, Shweta. This world is made of numerous creations, well you have no count for the number of things around you. In those things are many more things. As you go on classifying them, on the basis of their names, the list goes on and on; it doesn't end at all or anywhere. Every atom, every molecule, has a presence of their own in this world. Similarly, the sun is always bringing to us a morning, as moon brings us night; not that I go on in scientific terms to describe the pattern of moon or sun to you. But what I am trying to tell you is that, if you praise beauty then it is love. The colours around us, the seasons around us, the clouds, the stars and the sun, they all have an impact upon us humans. We get life, food to eat. Who brings us that? Don't you think that there is some force, some spiritual connection that makes it all happen and come alive in this big world? That, flowers grow in a definite pattern that we can categorise them, on the basis of their characteristics. If this isn't love, then what is; I wonder Shweta. Love is undying and ever present"
She replied to me, "Man, what's your problem. I am terming the love between two people. The love, that brings us pain and never heals that broken passage in our hearts. I am talking of that pain. Pain in love. Why do you talk of this spiritual connection between stars and sun, being compared to two human beings?"
Me: Shweta, I say so; because that is the spiritual connection I am also talking of between two people who feel attraction towards each other. People give reasons to others to live for, they bring smile on each other's faces; are there with each other in their difficult times, and in their embrace is love, that is eternal. It is unconditional. Such people are in this world who believe in true love. Even if their love, for that matter doesn't come to them, what comes is a way to live life. Love, teaches us how to live life.
Shweta: Okay, so you will preach me now? Huh! Tell me one thing, has your love been fulfilled?
Me: Yeah, I have loved, and I lead a perfect love story. I sing for her, songs, when I get back home.
Shweta: Dude, either you have lost it or you are high on drugs! Any of the two, I am damn sure. Go and get a treatment. If I have to love someone, I will love my mother. Alright? I don't need a special someone to show me the path of life. Moreover, preaching me on how to live life.
Pause.
Shweta: Wait, Gagan. Do you have M.P.D?
Me: Yeah, I have. You want that as well?
Shweta: Oh, you really have that. No thank you, keep it to yourself. You crazy creature. I will fix an appointment of yours, with a doctor as soon as possible mate. But, why didn't you consult a doctor yet? May I please know your specified reasons, for my general knowledge?
Me: Why would I go to a doctor if I have M.P.D. I have it, at my home.
Shweta: Do you know how foolish you're looking, as you are saying that? What is M.P.D. Do you know, its definition? Oh, leave aside you even don't know about its full form. Pity you!
Me: Yeah, it is with proper definition; Music Player Daemon (MPD) is a flexible, powerful, server-side application for playing music. Through plugins and libraries it can play a variety of sound files while being controlled by its network protocol.
Shweta: God, M.P.D is; multiple personality disorder (MPD). I think, you have that. Check on with the definition of it, it means you have multiple identities.
With all that humour in the end, I had described her my thoughts on love, and I had been happy that I did. I was a man, who was always believing in his instincts, waiting for the day for someone to prove me wrong but people couldn't help but make my belief in love ever broadened and beautified, by the nectar of their anger. I was happy to be that way, waiting and waiting for the calling of my life; to renew what had been missing in my life. Yes, there was a patch that needed to be healed, and I knew, a miracle was to happen or was it only, that I would learn the truth of life by experience, of getting the pain myself. I played my guitar as I entered my room, as a daily ritual in those days. I was happy, peaceful and music was what gave me life and memories of someone, whom I called my love.
To be continued,
Chapter-27
Next in--
8:00 A.M.
06/01/2015
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