As most of us would agree, being in love is the most beautiful feeling one can ever experience. It makes everything around us feel good, enables us to put up with the most irritating situations and gives us the strength to bear the most excruciating pains. It never takes away the smile from your face, and as far as I know, it also enables us to understand the actions of other people and see world from their perspective. There will be no moment to sulk and complain, for when ever you feel low; the thought of your loved one is enough to lift your spirits, even in the worst distress.
Pleasant thoughts fill every moment of leisure and every wait is enjoyable, even if the wait is for a ticket at the railway station. Love makes a poet out of common man, and it is interesting to see those transformations. Every song appears to be meant for you, every poem heart touching. The simplest displays of Nature, may it be a cool evening or a sunny morning, appears romantic and awakens the inner soul.
It is only with experience does one get to know all this. And yes, it only means one thing; I have been through all this. Taking the heart for a canvas, there have been pictures on it. Not once but many a time. If love means cherishing the thoughts of something or someone, thinking of nothing else, then most of us would have been in it. Let me come back to pictures on the canvas.
During childhood, it was mostly inanimate objects. As a kid and like every other child, I was fascinated with toys. Aeroplanes, cars and various other things filled my thoughts. I still remember the toy dog my mother bought for me when she had to visit a doctor and left me with my grandma at home. I was three then, and of course, it is still there in my collection of toys. Each time I go home I see it there in the show case, painted red and black in places, a display of my artistic excellence. More about it later. As I grew up, my attention shifted to cars and trucks. I would buy cars when ever possible and stack them up in the old iron box on the attic.
By the time I was in seventh class, I first saw a hand held videogame. An uncle of my classmate bought it for him from
As I grew up, animate objects (faces, rather) starting appearing on the canvas. It would be as most of us know, the girl in the next section or some distant cousin whom you meet at a marriage, that captures attention. A mischievous act or a cute smile is enough to make one admire them. Agreed, I or in fact any one of that age, lack the maturity to see beyond external appearance. But the admiration is short lived too. A slightest disturbance, a silly quarrel was enough to erase the face. In retrospect I laugh at myself, thinking how silly I have been, but that is what makes life beautiful. Faces appeared and disappeared, and the frequency with which this happened decreased over time. To make it clear, as I became older, a face took long time to appear and it took even longer to erase it from memory.
All this happened till I finished my schooling. The days of my intermediate education were some of the most painful ones in my life and I was fully troubled with Ramaiah and JEE coaching. I never cared about others, not a moment to think of some one else. It was perfect, I was just following Henry Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, I come first to everything else. And there was nothing on the canvas, except a good JEE rank. Those days in Gowtham, when I was repeating for JEE were golden days. I still wonder how focussed I was on the exam; I cared about nothing else, food, sleep nothing mattered. It was that dedication that earned me the nick “Machine” with my friends there. It was for the first time that I understood how enriching it is to love one’s dream.
A year after I came to the Insti, the face that was to last, appeared on the canvas. Of course, I was the culprit, and it was my fault to cherish and nourish meaningless thoughts. Nevertheless, it helped me in its own special way. I started enjoying the beautiful nature in the campus, and the smell of soil after a rain. I became a poet and many other developments took place. It was all one sided, and now I realise that I was lucky that it was so. When you don’t get to know the other person, you tend to idolize and attribute all good qualities to her/him. It doesn’t hurt you, as you don’t get to see the harsh realities and there is nothing to disappoint you. And so I lived in utopia, for a half and two years. The goddess was deaf and the devotee dumb. The former wouldn’t hear and the latter couldn’t speak. But to call a spade a spade, it was really a beautiful feeling. I never had a moment to complain, and nothing would disturb me. Everything was pleasant and fine. So did life go on until I realised that, after all she is human too and had her own shortcomings.
I don’t have much to say about a two way thing. But literature survey (read literature survey: experiences of friends and fellow men) indicates that there can be two cases. The first case is when it’s mutually enhancing. One complements the other and life can become a really wonderful experience. The second case is when the opposite happens. Each one tends to restrain and mould the other to fit to their ideas and life becomes painful.
Let me come back to my story, the whole point of writing it. Now there is a new face on the canvas. A fresh and an altogether new experience. This time I am sure that I will not fail. It’s going to be a life long relation, an enriching one. For it isn’t the face of any other girl. Not a human with all possible problems and traits that may disappoint me. All that can happen is that I can become a better individual. It’s the worlds most beautiful face; the face of Miss Ego.