A Little More Than That

Loving with all my heart is the only kind of loving I have done. I've let it knock out my senses and leave me in a daze. I've let the smiles capture so many breaths of mine, that one day I stopped counting. People have told me I love a little too much. People have told me these people I love so much are going to be gone one day. Some will fade away and some will leave in a flash. Some of them I’ll walk away from and some of them I’ll shut out. And I've told these people that they are right. Yet today, I love like it is the most completely honest thing I've done with my life.

I don’t understand how someone can love a little or how someone can love someone ‘kinda’. How can someone love just half of someone? I haven’t heard someone say I love her half-smile or how it feels perfect to fit half of their fingers into their half-palms. Love comes in wholes. What comes in halves , two-thirds and one-fourths are doubts, egos and torn photographs. I've loved whole. I've loved every wrinkle on their foreheads, each gesture of their hands. I've loved how they look after a long day at work. I've loved them when they wake up in bed an hour late with messed up hair. It’s a little funny though that I've been told I love a little too much.

Half-love is like half done poetry. Untrue and not beautiful. How will I notice the hair-pin bends of their smiles? How will I know how they are feeling today by just looking at way they shuffle their feet while standing? How will I get to remember the little details of how their noses cringe when they laugh? How will I memorize how they look before a kiss? How will I do all this by not loving someone till it is a lot more than enough? Hence, I shall love a little too much.

They’ll think I love them like I love words, or like I love to travel. They might even come to believe that I love them like the soils love the first rain. I’ll tell you a little secret here, though… I love them a little more than that. I love them a little more than they think I can. I long for their voices a little more than I pretend to long for. I’ll hug them a little tighter and a little longer than they think I will. I will love them a little more than that. I will love a little too much.

#TrueLove

I've thought about it a lot.  What is love and what is not love? What drove man to come up with words like ‘Infatuation’, ‘Crush’, and then the most controversial of all, ‘True Love’?  Is there any scale of damage from 1 to 10, or probably an odometer that the heart has, which can tell one from the other? The reason why I capitalize True Love is because I think it is a patent. Probably, the most popular patent that humans have ever come up with, of something that doesn't even exist.

Is a heart supposed to thump the loudest only at the sight of your ‘once-in-a-lifetime-and-never-can-it-ever-happen-again-one-true-love’? Personally, my heart races with equal enthusiasm when I see my favorite brownie arriving at my table. Call me an antithesis of True Love walking around shamelessly, but I find absolutely no hesitation in announcing that True Love is a myth. A well-fed, well-guarded, big fat myth.

Ever since I can remember,Bollywood songs and those expensive cards on the shelves of gift stores told me that True Love is different It has the following attributes:

1. It can happen only once in a lifetime. Anything you have before or after that is a crush, infatuation, or self-healing and void-filling.

2. True Love demands nothing. No keeping, no wanting to know, complete trust and no hard feelings. Ever.

3. True Love is the real deal. Rest everything just comes and goes.

4. … and well, I didn't pay much attention to what people have to say about this so I can’t really keep the list going. Trust me there are people who can.

It took me 22 years to get to realize what love really looks like.

There is a door. A beautiful, glorious door with sparkling white rice bulbs along its periphery, painted in shades of pink, lilac, purple and red. The door is majestic and alluring. None like you've seen before, nothing so bright or glorious. You want to enter, so you knock. No one answers, so you knock again. This time you wait a little. You still are captivated by the beauty of the door. It’s been a while now, and no one has answered yet. Then you begin to grow a little tired. You wait more and more, and then you’re angry. Your eyes hurt while staring at those bright lights now. The paint, you realize, is a little too flashy. People can have different thresholds of when they get too tired of it. But they all do someday. After weeks, months and years of waiting to enter the door, you are exhausted. You lose heart a little everyday and then one fine day, you decide to walk away.

But then you notice there is another door a little distance ahead. This one’s not grand, not sparkling and not alluring. It is as ordinary looking as it could get. The woodwork isn't done well. Sharp edges remain and it hasn't been painted in any color. It’s there, right in front of you. You wonder how you didn't notice this one before. You give the door a little push and it opens up for you. Just like that. You can walk in or walk away. But the door did open this time. 

The second door is what love looks like. Like it is in real life. Flawed and imperfect. The only reason why I think people talk of True Love and the first door is because such things are good for our ego. We want to believe that there is a better kind of love. Free of wants and desires. We want to believe that we are capable of more. That makes us strive better and harder. True Love is a good motivator, but it is a myth. Flawed love is as far as you get. Love will want to fight, and break you in anger. It will want to take you out for lunch. It will want you to stay away for a few days. Love will want not to talk after a long day at work and simply read its favorite book. Love will want to kiss you. Love will want to not snuggle up with you in a blanket at times. Love can go away at will and sometimes without a reason. Love needs imperfection to thrive. True Love doesn't need any of this for thriving, because it does not exist.

You can stare at perfection as much as you want, but when you’re done, you can always come back home to the second door. Standing outside the first door, knocking and being unanswered is important too. It is necessary, because then you’ll understand how exhausting perfection is and also how it feels like your heart to be home.

To all those who realize this, happy homecoming!