Grief Is Power- Essays

A DRUG AND A DREAM

A friend of a friend ran away from home to marry the love of her life.

Said my friend, once when we were on a dinner date having an extra-large pizza at the Khau Gali in Pune while visiting me for the week. She said that the friend had called her randomly on a sunny afternoon when she was home. It was an unknown number as that friend had cut all ties with all her friends, colleagues, family, hometown, and everyone' suddenly more than a year ago.

It was only after she picked up the call that she realized who it was. They exchanged their greetings and spoke randomly. But then that friend revealed what had exactly happened and why she was off the radar for so long. She was fine, well, physically. The boy she loved was a little above her age. He had a decent job, a car, a mother and father who were disapproving of his choice. That friend's mother knew about her forbidden love affair. But she kept it from her husband to protect her daughter. She approved of the boy. I do not remember if they had met or not, but was somewhat happy for her daughter. But at the same time, she also was suffering as the family was already looking for a boy to arrange her marriage– a suitable boy.

Long story short, my friend was not there at the university by then, and the girl afterward suddenly disappeared and then this. The friend was now somewhere else, in a different state living with her now live-in boyfriend who had a good job to take care of her while she tried to finish her studies. When my friend asked how were things going now that they had all their freedom and were living together, things took an unexpected turn.

The friend sounded low, disappointed. She replied that she was not necessarily sure about everything now. When asked why, she said "Man, marriages will continue to happen. But careers are also important." To be clear, she had clarified that the boyfriend was helping to pay for her education to continue. She was an ambitious girl, studious and not very impressive. When my friend counseled her through it all, telling her that things will happen, she can still continue to study and work towards her career goals, the friend was not convinced.

By then I had gasped in shock (me and my best friend tend to be dramatic like that), and my friend, in the middle of her narration responded, "right?"

Now one of the reasons me and her are best friends is because our thoughts often pace in a similar trajectory towards life. We unanimously despise romantic humiliation. (It must be important to note that we are twenty-four-year-old virgins and are mostly single people). Our reaction to that story had a reason so simple– how can one react to their romantic dreams coming true in this way? To us, love, regardless of how pure and sacred to be, is also as naturally to be confronted. We often speak of cherishing, of loving, of waiting for someone to walk into our lives.

Yet, both of us also agree on some other things.

I, personally have a rather different take on love, one that rather thins the line into very fine, non-existential air against hate.

Perhaps our perception of love is incredibly flawed.

Perhaps more than love, humans crave to be understood.

Perhaps that is why we often tend to run behind love more than anything, leaving everything else behind in a thought.

Perhaps it is due to our idea of unconditional love means unconditionally understanding. And that love is all-caring and first and monogamous. And that there is fidelity and faith involved, along with longevity and purity.

Perhaps our idea of love is false.

Perhaps love isn't supposed to be this way

Perhaps it is meant to be barbaric and violent and shared more than once. And it may have an undertone of pure, ultimate savagery.

Perhaps that is why hookups are common, infidelity is common, breaking marriage vows is common.

Perhaps this is why people meet strangers and share secrets. And understand. And never meet again. And it becomes beautiful. Are kindness and caring only what love comprises of? Aren't they too limiting? Isn't sharing love? Isn't courage love? Don't we all agree that love encompasses all– including anger and hate? And evil and bad? Who says fleeting moments cannot be love?

We attach ourself to romanticised ideas of romanticism, of exclusivity to escape our own demons, expecting all our wounds to heal through one passage only. But isn't that too too limiting? It is because we attach too many rules to things that we cannot control. Because we fear what things we do not control are capable of doing to us. And yet, knowingly, we give ourselves. We plague our anxieties on the thought of some kind of unknown possibility that may or may not be true at all. Perhaps, it is not even meant to be true. Perhaps it is an illusion.

We pack up our grievances in a bag and gift it to our love, instead of realizing that the biggest known stranger one can have is oneself. One finds oneself unable to tackle such circumstances because one often tends to cage oneself in these caged walls. One becomes more barbaric on ones own heart. Then one picks up those pieces of one's heart and keeps walking, expecting assistance in some way or the other.

But one does not realize often that life can be as barbaric as love can. That when one grows to believe that love is life, one or the other begin to imitate the other. Either of them, or at times, both of them hike down a strike on us from which we feel like most of our body is being pushed down, yet the waves of our human fury and emotions begin to push upwards against the turmoil that begins to take us on journeys of our worst mistakes, our worst moments.