Skip to main content

about love


When I was 10, love was Familiarity. Love was big eyes and sweet smile, coming over to give me his share of chocolates that he got for someone's birthday. Love was getting picked to play with him first. Love was random calls to my house that my mom picked up. Love was waiting for his silly emails over long summer breaks. Love was knowing I was his best friend.

When I was 14, love was a Secret. Love was staring at his pretty eyes from far away. Love was the music in my ears whenever I heard him call my name. However, love was also sly. Love was accidentally brushing against his skin while walking beside him. Love was catching him looking at me and at once looking away. Love was the crescendo of heartbeats that came after. Love was... finding out it was love.

When I was 17, love was All-knowing. Love was thinking pretty eyes wasn't love at all. Love was realizing I hadn't met love yet but knowing exactly what he looked like. Love will.... definitely be taller than me. Love will have soft hands and soft lips. Love will serenade me with songs and call me beautiful. Every. Single. Day. Love was knowing love was going to show up any day.

When I was 19, love was Euphoria. Love was asking him to call out my name and hearing it roll over his tongue, over and over again. Love was getting butterflies every time he crossed my mind. Love was losing sleep just to listen to him slur his words because of his own sleepiness. Love was finding out love was real. Love was biding him farewell despite it.

When I was 22, love was Certainty. Love had yet again made his way to me and I welcomed love with open arms. Love was knowing that I was going back home, love was knowing he was home. Love was waking up everyday with his kiss on my lips, excited about life. Love was knowing I couldn't possibly love him anymore, love was knowing he couldn't either. Love was everything I had ever hoped for and more. Love was knowing he was THE Love.

When I was 23, love was Devastation. Love was having the rug being pulled from underneath me. Love was having a constant rhythm of hurt flowing through my veins, every hour of the day. Love was knowing I did it all, love was knowing it wasn't even close to enough. Love was sobs of despair seamlessly blending into the night. Love was heartbreak. Pure utter heartbreak.

Love was hurting because of him and loving him all the same.
Love was knowing we could never do this ever again.
Love was like jumping from a cliff, making an endless fall
Love was finding out I didn't know anything about love,
I knew nothing at all.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How I Met Your Mother vs Friends

Photo:Pinterest I watched How I Met Your Mother for the first time when I was in 7 th  grade. At that time, the jokes most likely went right over my head and I probably didn’t understand the context to many things but still something about Ted Mosby resonated with me, even then. I have always struggled with keeping my love in check like him which has led to various failings throughout the years but Ted’s always had my back by being one step ahead. For these reasons and more, I whole-heartedly love the show. On the other hand, I watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S. a couple years later and thought it was mostly nice. I’d all but forgotten about it until last year when, for some reason, everyone started talking about it. I, by no means, thought it was a bad show but I couldn’t fathom why everyone liked it  so much . People started labelling it superior to HIMYM which didn’t sit well with me. So I decided to re-watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S to gain perspective which led me to the conclusio...

Romanticism

I wanted to hold your hand Amidst the crashing waves But I never seemed to understand the conditions to our affection Why could we fall apart onto each other sometimes, blind to everything else; Other times, I couldn’t even ask you to hold me, Why was I so afraid of rejection?   Did I romanticize your flimsy behavior? Or was I just a liar; Making up scenarios to downplay the extent of my emotions Because I keep choosing hurt over emptiness Delusion over reality; It does make me sometimes wonder Do I want affection or an excuse to not go seeking it?  

Unabashedly Nepali

Credit: nepalitypo.blogspot.com The week between Game of Thrones episode for me is always the time for incessant theory-searching. I read hundreds of articles, watch hundreds of videos every week not just to gain an unpopular intel on the plot but honestly, just to stay sane through the wait. So last night when I was satiating my inquisitiveness via Youtube, I stumbled onto a video regarding some scenes from the show which didn't make the final cut. The video mentioned an actress named something "Acharya" whose character had died a horrible death in Season 2. "Hmmm....That sounds vaguely like a Nepali name" I thought to myself and immediately googled her. Imagine my surprise when I found out that the actress who played one of Danaerys' helper is a Nepali girl named Amrita Acharia. I was beyond excited. A Nepali person was not only present on the sets of Game of Thrones but also played a moderately important character. There were two things running ...

The Knowing

Hey folks,, What's up with you guys? As of me I'm super busy with the assignments and home-works !! No matter how much effort I put....there's always another pile of assignments to complete! (sighs) Anyways.....this time I'm going to post a story I wrote ....Immature you may tell me but I seriously am improving day by day... :) ....Here's goes the story... Aryaa looked stunning in the red gown. Her face was gleaming. He couldn’t help watching her. She was moving so abruptly and graciously towards him that he nearly fainted. She looked ravishing and the pretty girl was now standing by his side. She looked at him with her big sparkly eyes. Her alluring fragrance was lifting him off his feet. She gestured him to tell him something in his ear. He absent-mindedly moved towards her. “Wake Up, Rahul” was what she said. For once he couldn’t make out what she was referring to and the next moment he opened his eyes. Rahul was already so late for college yet his mom insi...

Things and Places - I

Hello everyone, This month I've decided to do a series kind of thing. This is the first part of the story. And I'll be completing the story in the months to come. I might post something else in between but I'll definitely finish this one. Hope you like it :) Sameer She was browsing through the fiction section at a book store. She looked thoroughly engrossed yet was consciously glancing sideways. I suddenly looked away, embarrassed. As I glanced back at her general direction after a while, she was nervously taking out 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows' from the shelf. I smiled. After that she disappeared once more  into the stacks and stacks of books. I picked up the book I was looking for and lazily made my way to the counter. Just when I handed over the money, she came along carrying 'The Great Gatsby', a Sidney Sheldon book  along with Harry Potter which was on the bottom of the bunch. Taking a cue from the universe about her meticulous timing...

Purple.

it all began one august day as the sky bled into hues of purple, a coy smile from me, some words spoken in the dark from you and with the silent heat of our barely there touches, the yearning turned to longing. and come september, the longing will turn to love.  and all it will take is an epiphany,  an unintelligible distant symphony, a moment of chance miracle and you will know, that answers were never outside but within. you’d expect it to be earth shattering  but it is a mere revelation it’s a switch you flick in your own mind  that surrenders your soul. no matter what other say,  it was a choice then and it will continue to remain so. 

(un)finished business

By Vincent van Gogh - Starry Night Over the Rhone You were a ship passing by my ship during a sunset.   Ours was a chance encounter, so it was never about staying close forever Nor was it about helping each other traverse the tides together.  We had both set sail to reach far away lands from different ends of the earth With our journeys laid out in front of us. But when we met amidst the vastness of the sea  It was difficult not to believe that something about our closeness made sense. There was comfort and ease in existing together, A never before felt sense of synchronicity, That all was unfolding as it should.  I was the first to say goodbye though,  Not because I didn't want you,  But because I wanted you too much and I knew we weren't on the same page.  But why is it that even if I was the reason we sail separately today, I find myself thinking about you more frequently than I care to admit.  Sometimes, memories of you feel like a fervent fev...

I had to live without my phone for 10 days and it didn't go well.

Few months after I bought a phone, the worst thing that could happen to a person that bought a new phone happened to me. My phone started to dysfunction. My brand new phone, that I was paying way more than I could afford, was having issues. And like any normal person, I too went through the 5 stages of grief.  I pretended like I did not see that my apps were crashing and my phone was restarting randomly. I would just put my phone face down when that happened because I did not want to deal with it (kids, don't try this at home). And then I levelled up to the next stage. My phone would restart exactly when I was trying to send an important text, make an important call...or take a picture, or a million, of a beautiful sunset and boy, did that piss me off. I tried to look up solutions online but I couldn't find any that worked for me. Then I started bargaining. Is my phone shutting down and starting up on its own, which takes a total of 20 secs, really that big of a deal? I felt li...

Blank Canvas

Clarissa stared at the blank Canvas. It was the umpteenth time she had tried drawing that day and every time she had failed miserably. Heaps of scrunched white paper laid beneath her feet but even so, she wasn't done with the assignment yet. Art class that afternoon had been immensely enlightening. "Art comes from you heart and not your head. It unfolds the mystery of your sub-conscious. You may pretend things to be otherwise, but always remember that a piece of art is the window to your soul. It never lies", he'd said. And She had nodded, to herself more than anyone else. At the end of the class he had told everyone to draw something that made them smile, without reason and in the most turbulent of times. The pencil she'd been holding fell from her grasp and she bounced back from her reverie. She brainstormed again and again. She picked up the pencil and thought of various ways it could go. What was the thing she lived for ? She thought of the place sh...