Love cracks you open.
This dawned in a dilapidated nook of SDA market, where I sat with a listener and seeker, a few weeks ago. Silent nooks fascinate me. I look out for deserted and underutilised spaces, which allow themselves to be owned. Habitation and laughter are fond companions, for those who can afford them, including inanimate spaces. And who is to say that the lifeless do not dream of life and laughter? I mean, what if the same nook now dreamt of being in the company of some lively youngsters each day, who hug like its their last meeting, and who laugh like they are the rulers of the world? Dreams, alas, are creatures of discomfort and desires. I don't plan on going back to the nook anytime soon.
But I do plan on going back to the 'cracking' phenomenon of love, rather hastily. You see, this post is one of the more oxymoronic and moronic in general, the way it is forming inside my head. Like a heady brew, if ever any was fermented in my mind. I love taking risks which are emotional in nature, but at a detached distance. Is it even possible, you ask. Well, in a strange, convoluted way, it is. I am not entirely capable of explaining this, but this whole life is going to be a series of trial and error episodes. Let this one be no different.
Safety is inconsequential and antithetical to love. I believe. Love is the greatest of risks, most potent of shocks and the ghastliest of desires. Initially, of course. As you grow in love, and as love grows inside you, you keep getting fragile - ready to act, react, respond, retract on the expectations of who you deem the centre of your Universe. The problem, my dear, is that there can only be one centre of the Universe - either you, or him/her. Yes, there are instances of two stars revolving around each other - but the gravity of one is always greater than the other.
We have no yet evolved to become such stars who have learnt to revolve around themselves. So, when love makes you fragile, and when hurts caused in love crack you open, you suddenly are lost and livid, and you have no idea what to do, except to curse the notion of love in full and plenty. And some more. As love ebbs in your system, because other, antithetical emotions are brewing stronger, you become constrained and passive, and you assume that to be a permanent state. Because you do not want to crack anymore. Because you think that any further cracks are going to be the death of you. Because you assume you are that brittle.
Only, my dear, you are not.
I am not.
I hate saying these confident sentences out loud, because somehow, the Universe always assumes that I am challenging it. It them employs rose-tinted trickeries to crack me a little more, but now, I am beyond the point of fear. Yes, when I will love too much, I will fear enough to be on the verge of breaking apart - but hey, has there been devised any other way to love intensely than to be attached to the point of mayhem? Can you truly be in love without walking long enough to forget the road which brings you home? And will you not give any and everything for even shreds of those dream sequences which bind your ordinary life to almost surreal heights of pleasure?
The point is, simply put, that love cracks you open. And while doing that, it brings you the closest to yourself. When it has to, let love enter you from all crevices, because, let me tell you, it won't last. This intensity which makes you ride to the point of brittleness, it won't last. The memory and nostalgia of it will - and that will kill you. Try and forbid that from happening, and you are good to go. You possess love, even when you don't possess the object of your love.
I reiterate.
You possess love, even when you do not posses your beloved.
Well, then, enjoy the cracking up!
This dawned in a dilapidated nook of SDA market, where I sat with a listener and seeker, a few weeks ago. Silent nooks fascinate me. I look out for deserted and underutilised spaces, which allow themselves to be owned. Habitation and laughter are fond companions, for those who can afford them, including inanimate spaces. And who is to say that the lifeless do not dream of life and laughter? I mean, what if the same nook now dreamt of being in the company of some lively youngsters each day, who hug like its their last meeting, and who laugh like they are the rulers of the world? Dreams, alas, are creatures of discomfort and desires. I don't plan on going back to the nook anytime soon.
Source- hdwgo.com |
But I do plan on going back to the 'cracking' phenomenon of love, rather hastily. You see, this post is one of the more oxymoronic and moronic in general, the way it is forming inside my head. Like a heady brew, if ever any was fermented in my mind. I love taking risks which are emotional in nature, but at a detached distance. Is it even possible, you ask. Well, in a strange, convoluted way, it is. I am not entirely capable of explaining this, but this whole life is going to be a series of trial and error episodes. Let this one be no different.
Safety is inconsequential and antithetical to love. I believe. Love is the greatest of risks, most potent of shocks and the ghastliest of desires. Initially, of course. As you grow in love, and as love grows inside you, you keep getting fragile - ready to act, react, respond, retract on the expectations of who you deem the centre of your Universe. The problem, my dear, is that there can only be one centre of the Universe - either you, or him/her. Yes, there are instances of two stars revolving around each other - but the gravity of one is always greater than the other.
We have no yet evolved to become such stars who have learnt to revolve around themselves. So, when love makes you fragile, and when hurts caused in love crack you open, you suddenly are lost and livid, and you have no idea what to do, except to curse the notion of love in full and plenty. And some more. As love ebbs in your system, because other, antithetical emotions are brewing stronger, you become constrained and passive, and you assume that to be a permanent state. Because you do not want to crack anymore. Because you think that any further cracks are going to be the death of you. Because you assume you are that brittle.
Only, my dear, you are not.
I am not.
I hate saying these confident sentences out loud, because somehow, the Universe always assumes that I am challenging it. It them employs rose-tinted trickeries to crack me a little more, but now, I am beyond the point of fear. Yes, when I will love too much, I will fear enough to be on the verge of breaking apart - but hey, has there been devised any other way to love intensely than to be attached to the point of mayhem? Can you truly be in love without walking long enough to forget the road which brings you home? And will you not give any and everything for even shreds of those dream sequences which bind your ordinary life to almost surreal heights of pleasure?
The point is, simply put, that love cracks you open. And while doing that, it brings you the closest to yourself. When it has to, let love enter you from all crevices, because, let me tell you, it won't last. This intensity which makes you ride to the point of brittleness, it won't last. The memory and nostalgia of it will - and that will kill you. Try and forbid that from happening, and you are good to go. You possess love, even when you don't possess the object of your love.
I reiterate.
You possess love, even when you do not posses your beloved.
Well, then, enjoy the cracking up!
Source - rhymeswithmagicart.blogspot.com |
Di that is amazing I mean in what words shall I put it that how true that is..and to what extent it is relatable ....while reading I felt a sudden gulp in my throat and last lines were just...😍😍
ReplyDeleteAnd yay! I am so glad you read and wrote this for me. Nothing encourages me more than appreciation does :)
DeleteDi that is amazing I mean in what words shall I put it that how true that is..and to what extent it is relatable ....while reading I felt a sudden gulp in my throat and last lines were just...😍😍
ReplyDeleteBeautifully line of thought & a refreshing approach to love & to its effects
ReplyDeleteOoh! And now I know your middle name too :P :)
DeleteYou've brought out such a significant trait of love and described it in such detail, and how beautifully! If love were a person, he or she would feel so loved right now, if you know what I mean. :) This is exemplary of myth-busting and I wish you write more of these pieces. In awe of your writing for the nth time.. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Shruti! The way you describe relationships in your poems, I know you have a keen understanding of the bonds that exist between mortals - and finding resonance with you means much.
DeleteI wish you wrote and published more too!
Ouh <3 .... wow !!! A few lines are just too beautiful to not fall in LOVE with .... to not crack open ...
ReplyDeleteThanks Sadia!
DeleteIsn't it amazing how we all go on believing in love, despite everything else :)
The post cracked me up a little bit too.. in that way where it dawns on you that you've been to this place before, only you never knew that it had a name and that it was more than just a figment of your imagination. Reading this made me think of such places and people... And of those that are yet to come. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteSo beautifully put Di, as always.
Thanks beta! It kept cracking me as I wrote - but the exercise was worth it :)
DeleteWow what a post. Enjoyed every word specially the last line. I am glad you have started blogging regularly once again. I read and enjoy every post though I don't comment every time.
ReplyDeleteAnd I am glad you are still reading my posts Alka! I remember you fondly, always.
DeleteThough it was very tough for me to understand the first few lines but then I read, smiles, enjoyed and now taken back in my memories. Lovely expressed. Thanks for sharing - Kundan here!!
ReplyDeleteYour comment has come as a total surprise Kundan! The fact that you took the pains of visiting my blog and reading it means a lot!
DeleteThe point is, simply put, that love cracks you open. And while doing that, it brings you the closest to yourself. When it has to, let love enter you from all crevices, because, let me tell you, it won't last. This intensity which makes you ride to the point of brittleness, it won't last. The memory and nostalgia of it will - and that will kill you....damn!! Your words are beautiful ..
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry for not being able to be regularly in touch - but I must tell you that I value your literary opinion. So, thanks!
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete"Dreams, alas, are creatures of discomfort and desires" so true.
ReplyDeleteThere couldn't be a better way to express what love does to you and what to expect when it exercises its full force on you. Very beautifully written. :* Write more! Write more!
Hehe. Thoughts visit me at leisure, and then I romance them at leisure. Life is fun that way!
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