Unrequited Love – I.

May 30, 2014 § 4 Comments

Its interesting that you started a discussion/thread/blog chain about unrequited love. Because the subject, though interesting, doesn’t really command much of our attention in our daily lives. Or maybe its true about me more than others.

Now that I think about it, I’ve been at both the receiving end and the giving end of it. Receiving more than giving I must say. Because yes moments of unrequited love from my side have happened, but they’ve majorly been small time crushes that one gets over with soon enough to not get affected by it.
But yes, there have been a few people in my life who I’ve felt very strongly for, with the knowledge that they don’t look at you in similar regard. What’s beautiful about this form of a relationship, is that you go on loving this person despite knowing for sure that no reciprocation is ever going to come your way. I don’t know what really is the driving force behind such unrequited commitment, because frankly, it seems ridiculous, because in such a situation, mostly you are unable even to perform your side of the love towards your object of desire. What i mean when I say ‘perform’ is that, in situations where you love a person, really love them, there are things you feel like doing for them. Like helping them, or being the reason for their smile, or simply just making sure that the person is happy and relaxed at all times. Yet in unrequited situations, one often doesn’t even get to do that, so the satisfaction of even that pleasure is denied to us. We still keep going on loving the person. It’s funny, right, ho these things function, with little regard to logic.
But instead of the sob stories, for this piece I’m going to concentrate more on the times when I’ve been at the receiving end of unrequited love, because these are far too numerous. And no, I’m not boasting, because this is not something to boast about. These have always been uncomfortable situations and always leave a sort of uneasiness within me.
The thing with receiving unrequited love, is that despite making you feel desired and happy, it ends up making you feel guilty and strangulated(at times). I say guilty because it feels bad, really bad to know that you might have something that you can give this person, something they desire, yet you can not because you don’t want to. This something can be your time, your body, your love or your person. You feel guilty because no one deserves to be rejected and why should you be in a position to reject someone or their affection.
And you know, it feels really nice to be the subject of that affection. It does, frankly. I’ve been in situations like these and they are overwhelming, to say the least. So, one of my recent friends, is gay. We are doing a play together and we grew close during rehearsals, and we are really good friends now. We connect with each other on a lot many levels, and we like to indulge in long never-ending conversations almost every day. Now, I know that he really likes me, and wishes that if I were gay, he could hit on me. I know it because I can sense it, I can see it in his eyes, and also because on certain drunk nights he has expressed this quite explicitly, though not cheaply. So here in this situation, I really feel bad because I’m straight, so I can’t even consider the prospect. But you know when you like a person and you mean well for them, you feel like they deserve to get the things they desire? I feel that sort of affection for him. Yet I can’t give him what he desires, i.e. my love. Now, that is heartbreaking, for the both of us in equal measure.
What’s peculiar about being at the receiving end, is that you tend to begin believing that the other person, the one who loves you unconditionally, is waiting only for you and is sad because he/she can’t get you. You sort of start believing that you’re the only one who can give them happiness, so they must be ‘not happy’. I don’t know if its a sadistic instinct to see people in pain because of you, or just plain concern that you might be affecting their state of happiness, but this thought exists for sure. And believe it or not, it pinches a little to see the same person find happiness finally with someone else. Again, you can’t call it jealousy, but it is something inexplicable.
So, this person liked you with all their heart. But you could not reciprocate in equal measure for some reason. It might be that you love someone else, or that you don’t feel for this particular person, or simply that you aren’t of the required orientation. So, now this person in unhappy and you’re aware. You’re sorry about hurting that person, or not being able to help them. You hope that one day they’ll get over you and find peace. Then one day, they do. They get over you. They might fall in love with someone else, or move on with their lives, find happiness in other things, places, people. Now, you don’t know what to think. You feel empty. And you end up concluding that they made a compromise. They’re ‘making do’ with the wrong choice. Because you don’t want to let go of the idea or the notion that YOU are the one right choice for them, but oh poor you, you can’t be.
Funny, we are all victims of our own doing. Where life can be totally simple and amazing, we complicate it ourselves to create havoc in life.
‘Love’ is such a beautiful emotion that it never needs to go unrequited. Why can’t all love be responded with exactly that? Love! ย How I wish this was the kind of world we were living in.
Reminds me of the song “Imagine” by John Lennon.

Would you write?

May 28, 2014 § 3 Comments

You’re reading this because either you’re a follower of my web space, or because it has been shared with you.

You’d know that I do a lot of guest posts right? I mean it’s good to let other people write for your blog, while you sit and whine about the world issues. ๐Ÿ˜›

So anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about certain things. And I’d really like you, the reader, to contribute with respect to your opinions or ideas.
To begin with, let’s pick up unrequited love.

What’s your definition of unrequited love? Have you been at the receiving or the giving end? Has anyone moved you so much that it changed your ideologies? Do you think it’s bad?
Anything and everything is welcome. A story, a one liner, a poem, a quote, an incident. Anything.

This isn’t a writing challenge. You’re very much entitled to ignore this post and move on with your life. The idea is to understand your understanding. And nobody’s going to judge you for it anyway.

Or , if you have something to say, drop an email at arch.kumar21@gmail.com .
If you know someone who’d be interested, do share.

Happy writing. Happier loving. ๐Ÿ™‚

P.S. No time limit or word limit. But I’d be happy if you could revert while I’m still curious!

The deal about living in a parallel universe that exists in your head.

May 20, 2014 § 11 Comments

I remained emotionally entwined with Erica, and I brought something of her with me to Lahore – or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I lost something of myself to her that I was unable to relocate in the city of my birth. Regardless, the effect of this was to pull and tug at my moods; waves of mourning washed over me, sadness and regret prompted at times by an external stimulus, and at others by an internal cycle that was almost tidal, for want of a better word. I responded to the gravity of an invisible moon at my core, and I undertook journeys I had not expected to take.

Often, for example, I would raise at dawn without having slept an instant. During the preceding hours, Erica and I would have loved an entire day together. We would have woken in my bedroom and breakfasted with my parents; we would have dressed for work and caressed in the shower; we would have sat on our scooter and driven to campus, and I would have felt her helmet bumping against mine; we would have parted in the faculty parking area, and I would have been both amused and annoyed by the stares she received from the students passing by, because I would not have known how much those stares owed to her beauty and how much up her foreignness; we would have gone out for an inexpensive but delicious dinner in the open air, bathed by the moonlight beside the Royal Mosque; we would have spoken about work, about whether we were ready for children; I would have corrected her Urdu and she my course plan; and we would have made love in our bed to the hum of the ceiling fan.

I have also been transported in ways that were no less vivid but far more fleeting. I recall once, during the monsoon, watching a puddle form in the rut of a muddy tire track beside the road. As raindrops fell and water filled the banks of this little lake, I noticed a stone standing upright in the center, like an island, and I thought of the joy Erica would have had at gazing upon that scene. Similarly, I recall another incident, after I had a collision on my scooter, when I returned home and stripped off my shirt to see a livid bruise on my rib cage, where hers had once been. I stared at myself in the mirror and touched my skin with my fingers and hoped that the mark would not soon fade, as it inevitably did.

Such journeys had convinced me that it is not always possible to restore one’s boundaries after they have been blurred and made permeable by a relationship: try as we might, we cannot reconstitute ourselves as the autonomous beings we previously imagined ourselves to be. Something of us is now outside, and something of the outside is within us. Perhaps you have had no comparable experience, for you are gazing at me at a raving madman. I do not mean to say that we are all one, and indeed – as will soon become evident to you – I am not opposed to the building of walls to shield oneself from harm; I merely wished to explain certain aspects of my behavior upon my return.

– The Reluctant Fundamentalist, Mohsin Hamid.

Guest Post : Pankaj Sharma.

May 2, 2014 § 1 Comment

I Volunteer to Die

Whenever you are on a long romantic drive

And see the Tricolour proudly flying high

See that somewhere far away, a soldier stands

Weary in deserts or in some distant foreign lands

Protecting the tricolour from any of the foe

Standing tall, proud whether itโ€™s heavy rain or snow

He keeps wondering what he might have done

If he had not chosen to carry a gun

Even when he is overworked without a shade

Soldier is a patriot who is born and not made

Sometimes you might think he has a bad attitude

But maybe that is because of long periods of solitude

He faces bullets and embraces death many a time

So that his countrymen and women can peacefully dine

You may think for him this is just another task

He did not do it as a job but for his love for Tricolour was unsurpassed

He may lose a leg stepping on a landmine

To see those kids smiling across the borderline

For your freedom he always fights to keep

So that tranquil and in peace you can sleep

You may often condemn for him being wrong

But still for you he will always stand strong

While you have right to denounce him and complain

He will keep fighting for you in the pouring rain

Soldier is not a label for anyone to purchase or borrow to woo

It is the greatest honour to him, like soul for the body hidden inside you

A soldier is very tough indeed

To stand tall whenever there is a need

He also feels sadness, pain or sorrow

Not always looking forward for trials of tomorrow

The cost of a soldier may be very high

Your support and love for them you should never deny

With sadness hidden deep he holds his buddyโ€™s hand

As they breathe their last on some mortal sand

He is not high headed what you may think

Will give his life for you with not even a blink

You may ask again

Besides a soldier there are others who take the pain?

Then what is the difference, why he thinks so high?

He will smile and humbly say….

Neither I hold the sky nor do I think so high

For you โ€œI volunteer to die….โ€

About Pankaj:

Pankaj is one of the few people I’ve come to know from Twitter, whom i really respect. He is an amazing writer, a great father and a wonderful husband. Get to know him here! ๐Ÿ™‚

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