The Abstract of Love
For years now I've wondered about what real love is. I've dated a few girls, and I have been in love before, but I've never truly understood what it is. I have always ached for the freedom to be able to pursue my goals and ambitions without having to give it a second thought. I wrote the following words to myself quite a while ago.
"A strong man doesn't commit himself to love, to caring for someone so deeply. A strong man doesn't need the words 'You are not alone'.
You are alone. And that's how it's going to be.
Yours is the lion's road, and you've got a wolf pack with you. You have strong and like-minded friends. Winners.
That's all you need right now. Your motivation is the hunger to succeed and the fear of failure. It is the fear of dying without having accomplished anything meaningful."
Yes, it is admittedly the fear of love and the respect for its powerful grasp on a person that personify these words and etch themselves as a voice in my mind. It is also precisely due to that same reason that I wish to work by myself in silence and quietly observe my progress in life.
For years now I've wondered about what real love is. I've dated a few girls, and I have been in love before, but I've never truly understood what it is. I found my answer today.
I saw this elderly blind couple in a local train today. They sang hymns and praised the lord Pandurang, despite being blind and having to carefully stumble across this compartment of the moving train. The man played the Harmonium while singing, the woman held out a cup in which people dropped their earnings (some of you may think that alms should be the correct word here; for voices that sing in earnest, it's not).
They sang together and somehow, whenever the train lurched and either of them stumbled, the other always had their hand reaching out to steady their partner. When they were about to get off, they stood near the door, waiting for the train to arrive at a station and were smiling and laughing while whispering to each other. I could only imagine the years worth of trust they had on each other to travel and sing despite their disability and still be able to take joy in each moment. No doubt, they had seen suffering before, and it was through that suffering that they emerged together, stronger and closer.
They found happiness in every living moment with each other, and this, I believe, is the true nature of love. Such is the kind of love that I long for, and I can only hope that in time, it'll find me.
It is due to this dual-mindset wherein I question my thoughts and present arguments upon arguments to myself that I find it difficult to simply come to terms with a single, solid foundation of love. I am certain that in time, I shall solve this great puzzle as well.
For years now I've wondered about what real love is. I've dated a few girls, and I have been in love before, but I've never truly understood what it is. I have always ached for the freedom to be able to pursue my goals and ambitions without having to give it a second thought. I wrote the following words to myself quite a while ago.
"A strong man doesn't commit himself to love, to caring for someone so deeply. A strong man doesn't need the words 'You are not alone'.
You are alone. And that's how it's going to be.
Yours is the lion's road, and you've got a wolf pack with you. You have strong and like-minded friends. Winners.
That's all you need right now. Your motivation is the hunger to succeed and the fear of failure. It is the fear of dying without having accomplished anything meaningful."
Yes, it is admittedly the fear of love and the respect for its powerful grasp on a person that personify these words and etch themselves as a voice in my mind. It is also precisely due to that same reason that I wish to work by myself in silence and quietly observe my progress in life.
For years now I've wondered about what real love is. I've dated a few girls, and I have been in love before, but I've never truly understood what it is. I found my answer today.
I saw this elderly blind couple in a local train today. They sang hymns and praised the lord Pandurang, despite being blind and having to carefully stumble across this compartment of the moving train. The man played the Harmonium while singing, the woman held out a cup in which people dropped their earnings (some of you may think that alms should be the correct word here; for voices that sing in earnest, it's not).
They sang together and somehow, whenever the train lurched and either of them stumbled, the other always had their hand reaching out to steady their partner. When they were about to get off, they stood near the door, waiting for the train to arrive at a station and were smiling and laughing while whispering to each other. I could only imagine the years worth of trust they had on each other to travel and sing despite their disability and still be able to take joy in each moment. No doubt, they had seen suffering before, and it was through that suffering that they emerged together, stronger and closer.
They found happiness in every living moment with each other, and this, I believe, is the true nature of love. Such is the kind of love that I long for, and I can only hope that in time, it'll find me.
It is due to this dual-mindset wherein I question my thoughts and present arguments upon arguments to myself that I find it difficult to simply come to terms with a single, solid foundation of love. I am certain that in time, I shall solve this great puzzle as well.
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