one more Lover…
I was surprised by Bhupi’s take on love.
We were going down the lift, outside for some breakfast; as soon as the lift stopped and we got out, a girl was there waiting. She was probably late by an hour or so. I didn’t know her name, neither was I interested; but Bhupi was; he greeted Hi to her and she retorted back. Superficially, it looked normal and obvious, but it wasn’t. That was confirmed by the poignant reaction surfaced over his face.
His contorted face had something of importance that I had forgotten. Was this the same girl he used to talk about? Oh yah, it was she. I tried to muster past information bits. She was tall, fare, donned an indigenous Indian look, and an all time smile, worked in some other team, that was all I knew about her. I related things in order to get the flow. And, eventually, I concluded. It was she. None other than she, and Bhupi’s writhed facial expressions, restless lips and vaguely wandering eyes confirmed my conclusion.
He went silent and slight itchy, as usual – a glimpse of the beloved leaves you enchanted. You dwell in that rare trance for long, and would continue until someone interrupts your reverie. I had to and I did: “What’s the matter? It made your day.” But, I was wrong.
“I had something else in mind, and she showed up to me. I didn’t want her there then.” He replied, reluctant with words, though happy that he got a way to vent out his angst.
Strange! I wondered if I had interpreted properly about the girl. And asked him candidly, and was even more stunned in knowing that I was right. You love a girl, something that in itself is divine, and while you see her, fortunately by chance, you go irritated and comment as absurdly as he did. Of course, there might have been some fight between them, but would any fight ever let the love down?
We went to the fast-food stall and ordered for Poha. I noticed the stillness that had poured into him. He didn’t take any; I went on with the second. Still, his silence had prevailed. Then, I couldn’t refrain from asking him the reason.
“Look, I loved this girl…” I wondered on the word, ‘loved ‘did it mean that everything was over. “…but she never loved me. I don’t know what to do next. Better to quit.” I sensed a dust of frustration in him, and couldn’t help laughing.
So, I was talking to a man, a grown up man, frowning over a lost love, which in reality was never his. Why? Because he never tried enough. Love is earned; It doesn’t come for free. Toil, not fate, is the way to love. Had he done what he was supposed to, certainly he wouldn’t have sounded such absurd, even if he had lost in the process.
The journey matters. The destinations can always be rewritten.
It was his love, his fight. It was he who had to take on tough. The more you fight, the more you realize the importance of the path.
“The problem is your typical man’s ego. It is you who love her; it is you who long her. You need her, she doesn’t. So you got to fight, because she would instinctively hide herself. You weapon is you desire. Give everything that you have, and stand bare to the test of time. If it is pure, it would survive, if not, then it was never there.” I said, in such an authoritative tone that later I marveled over my own words and we both burst out into laughter.
Probably, my words had sedated him, but how much it ignited his dormant passion, is yet to be seen. I wish him best efforts, and the best patronage of the universe around.