And They Lived Happily N-ever After

Hardly the kind of post expected after a vacation.. I agree.

A chance meeting with a close friend,surviving the trauma of a broken relationship, triggered off this most disconcerting affirmation. If there is one sphere of modern life which has witnessed such huge fluctuations in intensity, it is relationships.

"He's changed..drastically"..she said."Hes not the person I married. I just dont feel the same way about him. The magic has gone out of the relationship." All I asked her was if she was the same woman he had married. She admitted that it was difficult for her to identify herself with her actions and words. She had lost herself somewhere, along the way.

The only constant is change, said our sages. This is one area that demands we rekindle the light of this wisdom. Relationships are in a constant state of flux. To expect stability is one thing but to link it with a plateau -ed emotional level, is blasphemy.

All said and done, a man and a woman were meant to be with, for each other. The need although unquestionable, is also a major factor for discontent. Why do we interpret 'dependence' as a cause for abject misery? Or for that matter an ensuing' state of denial', as to the versimilitude of the fact that it is two halves which make a whole.

So what is the furore in perceiving oneself as a 'half' in this context? It will certainly not connote a fractured existence, contrarily a doubled one.

All around me , I notice failed marriages, relationships, stressful lives wrought with frustrations of unhappiness stemming from the paucity of that single emotion LOVE which does indeed 'make the world go round'. Whether in a tail spin or whirl of delight is the contention.

Nothing can come close to the exhilaration of the first flush of romance, the budding of a thousand hopes and dreams, the whisper of a promised land of undying happiness. If there is anything more enchanting than the child of a smile, it is the smile of a woman who has tasted the nectar of love.

What is saddeningly true , however, is its transcience. While on the one hand it would be hopelessly naive to believe that it will constantly be a tale of romantic days and nights,on the other hand , for something so divine to dwindle down to hate, disgust and disillusionment, is tragic.

Why does this happen? And so often? More a rule than an exception today. Yes, 'today' moreso. Lets face it we are more analytical, incisive, questioning than our fathers and forefathers. While this may have proved so profitable in wordly matters, in inter-personal relationships it has proved to be a downer. If we are happy, we spend time analysing, dissecting 'why'..and if unhappy then naturally, the brooding is endless.If he loves you ..there is 'why' and fears , doubts 'what if he deserts me'. If he/she leaves then ofcourse again 'Why'?

Sometimes to accept without doubt, or simply without rhyme or reason, is not only less traumatic, but painless and uncomplicated as well. Just be.. in love. But wait..

This 'many splendoured thing', is it really as pleasurable, blissful, ethereal as touted by poets, writers, legends we have been fed on. If it is , why is it so ephemeral? So slippery, it nimbly slides through the fingertips as a butterflies wings. Or so we think.The truth being that we dont really give love a chance.

Without attempting to take on a biased stance, either for or against either gender, what is glaringly apparent is the fact that we as a race have forgotten how to perceive love. Apart from its physical aspect. Infact , what it has degenerated into is just that.. 'physical'. Since 'it' can never sustain a relationship, and since caring, respect and acceptance have not taken on an 'expression', soon the emptiness and hollowness of the once blossoming , wholesome vibration, surfaces.

Who is to blame? For one, the Mills and Boon, Barbara Cartland, When Harry met Sally, Pretty woman, type fairy tales of love. Our youthful days are fed on a diet of fun, frolic, jazzy, funky, cheesy, glitzy, rose tinted glasses prism of love. It may seem ever-so-perfect, but is like the 'chocolate house' in the fairy tale, where the old woman lured children only to cook them for her next meal. Without meaning to stultify the debate, the idea is to propound the theory of 'fairy tale romances' as a culprit.

We all love "love stories. The problem lies in our unswerving aim to replicate it in our lives. Bound to lead to disgruntlement, dissatisfaction, frustration and then a drifting apart.. in that order.

Love is a Verb. Relationships moreso. It requires, doing. More often than not, once the 'time to disco' begins to develop cracks, there is nothing to fall back on. Life without the tints, is harsh, stark and ruthless. But where is the orientation for honing coping skills? Movies.. end at marriage. Life, begins then.

Lets question our innermost subtle motives, honestly. We tend to love a person not for what he/she is, but for what they make us feel about ourselves. It is what we transform into while in their midst. So primarily, true love is within. Looking for it outside is erroneous.

Having experienced the emotion in all its glory, why does it fade away? We begin to see more of what is unacceptable, simultaneously ignoring what is acceptable. Familiarity breeds contempt.. If this be true can love, therefore which thrives on familiarity, intrinsically, survive in this scenario?

Yes. If we ponder long enough over this wise crack "“Love isn't finding a perfect person. It's seeing an imperfect person perfectly.”