Love is Transient, Just Like Your Youth

I once read in a WhatsApp forward “Three things will teach you everything about life — Empty pockets, empty stomach and breakup”.

There is something phenomenal about losing that one person you loved with all your heart. The misery rises manyfold when the reason of separation was something not under the control of any party involved. It is always easy to move on when you have a reason to hate your ex.

India, with its gazillion strange customs and rituals, has one such tradition which tops all. Here, the parents decide who their kid is going to be together with for the rest of his/her life. The power to choose one’s better half doesn’t really lie in the hands of the one who has to live with that better half. And the most important factor turns out to be ‘caste’. A faulty concept laid down hundreds of years before, which necessitated the son to pursue the same profession as his father. Consequently, society was segregated into groups of warriors, potters, saints, janitors etc. The upper castes like the saints (Brahmins, in India) would wreak havoc on the lower castes, including not letting them to drink water from the same well. Marriage, was a strictly intra-caste affair.

Strangely, even though the lower castes have risen from the shackles of inhumane torture and cruelty, thanks to the 21st century, the concept of intra-caste marriage still holds true.

Many honor-killings have been on this account, and many hearts turned to stone. Those who can dare to go against their parents’ wishes, often turn down on this orthodox ritual and consolidate their passion into marriage, anyhow. But for the majority, the old way dominates.

Consequent to this age-old tradition, I lost the love of my life. She couldn’t fight with her parents. She didn’t put in efforts only, to avoid weakening the fabric of her family. And I don’t blame her. That’s how how most of the girls in India are brought up to be. No matter what family, every girl knows deep within her heart, that marriage is a big event in her community, especially those of the girls. And that the honor of her parents lies at stake. Any attempt to swim against the tides shall bear unpleasant ramifications. A demo of what could unfold, is quite visible with the kind of rumors that circulate when that neighborhood girl elopes with her lover.

Eventually, the girl gives in, and the long-sauteed relationship on the pan of simmering love, finds a way in the dustbin. “Parents won’t agree”.

This whole tragedy let me into thinking whether this feeling is even real. What we call love. Although, there is always this philosophical argument of ‘what is real, anyway?’ Even time is not real, according to some physicists.

The fundamental motive force behind what animals do, love has no real basis. It waxes and wanes, and finds different subjects. It’s a phase and not a reality. What you may like about a person when you are in love with him, you may not the moment you fall out of love.

There are spikes, and there are troughs, in every relationship out there. A mere chemical reaction in the brain, which helps one to pass down their genes, love is just another emotion for the die-hard science fans, and stoics. For most of the rest, it is a topic to crack jokes and laugh, on the ill fate of the broken hearts.

In all this tragedy, what bothers me the most is the way it is going to turn out. She will marry someone else, and have kids. The love for her kids shall bury mine deep beneath. Soon, she will forget me, or at least, consider me just one more person in her life. As Emily Bronte rightly put in Wuthering Heights,

I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is past. I’ve loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, at death, I shall not rejoice that I am going to her: I shall be sorry that I must leave them.

Although any attempt from me, to let her know how I feel about our friendship makes her go livid, chiding me for over-thinking, I hope she could understand. She believes that it is useless to think about a future no one has seen, but I hope she could understand.

She wants me to be happy and I want the same for her, but I hope she could understand. I hope, she could realize the injustice I feel for letting out my feelings for her, only to see them getting crushed down by “Who has seen future anyway? Let’s just be happy”. I hope she could understand.

The Unknown Doctor