I belong to a school where love is romanticised. For me it is still a fairy tale, a bright summer day, edge of the mountain, a country shack on the beach, a long drive, holding hands, looking at the sky for hours together, reading books, dedicating songs. It’s still the same for me. Yet when I look around I get confused. It’s a changed definition for most of the people.
Love is floating all around. It is there in the short skirts, in the tequila shots, in friday night plans, in eventful gatherings. It is there in the back seats of fast driving cars leading to a scattered size bed. It is there in juicy conversations made over a drink, in red lipsticks. It’s strange how people are hell bent on finding love in their lives. It’s ok to have a no string affair out of a committed relationship but love, oh no. Love will tear us apart.
It confuses me what people today trying to find. It is looking for more sex in the name of love. We get lonely and then glamourise the whole thing. The love depletes from our surroundings with so many distractions ready to grab our attention. We march ahead to escape the whole situation and find more love to replenish ourselves. The kind of love that has no baggage. The one that is easier and comes with no heart break. The one that can happen with multiple people without any arithmetic to it.
When I was studying literature I figured out that I have the ability to fall in love with more than one person at a given point of time. Little did I know the difference would be perceived by us this way. Falling in intense love with one person is incredible with its ups and downs. Its intense moments and mind blowing experiences. Imagine duplication of it. For me love is still holding hands and looking up at the sky for hours at those twinkling stars. Night after night. How many stars, how many nights.
Not everyone matches my idea of love. Before you think I am getting judgemental, I must say that I have a high regard for sex. Oh the feeling of dissolving myself in the nectar of love into another body is divine. Yet no one tells us how to treat ourselves with all that drama and misery that love brings around with itself. It’s easier to find love between sheets that stand crisp for a night. I am not against sex but i want to find sex for sex and not mix it with love.
I want our generation to be less fearful of love. I want to fearlessly board the train of love even when I know I might have to get off and create another road map for myself. I want to escape my loneliness with sex but then I don’t want to do it in the name of love. I am tired of unwanted conversations, misleading gym tracks, and variety over stability. I want to choose my sadness since it makes me wiser and mature. It makes me cynical and poisonous too but it makes me fearless. I want to be rather fearless and board the train with love with all its side effects. I don’t want to massage my pain with a funky hairdo snorting pleasures through the wind and getting on to a roller coaster ride for the night. Then come back home to my creepy dark self and prepare for another water park ticket. I rather want to board the train knowing the journey is temporary and would end. I want to evolve with every journey and let every journey grow upon me. I want to helplessly fall in love and have sex with it again and again.
Kavita Kabira: Bestselling author. motivational speaker, psychotherapist.