Back in school when in 9th standard, I received one letter from a classmate. He’d expressed himself very well. I don’t have the letter anymore and I don’t remember every word from it…but one phrase within the letter has been stuck on my mind ever since. It said, “Knowledge is the only factor that changes all lives.” True Indeed! He’d expressed his feelings and he’d brought to my knowledge something I was unaware of. He was a nice guy but I didn’t feel the same way about him.
Back then, it made no sense to me that another biological body possible understands you and loves you-unconditionally. And as it is there weren’t good examples around. Thus, his idea of knowledge where he’d intended to bring his affection to my notice didn’t had much effect on his or my life…because much bigger than the knowledge he’d shared, was my understanding of world that had been stirred and rooted deep into my personality long time ago. That was the bitter fact an awareness overwhelming than any knowledge, which I was struggling to unlearn and battling to live with it.
Well! I remember, when in my early teens, my mum used to read out the victimized stories from one of the women’s magazine she’d subscribed to (I used to insist her to). There was a thrill in those stories which stirred in an imagination, excitement and amusement all at the same time, which I was addicted to. Those real life horrendous crimes were too brutal to believe, but were the fact. Long before stepping into the real world I was already afraid of it. As hard it was to accept the fact; was much easier for me to escape from the reality. Reality! The one you read (forget), the one you hear (ignore), one you’ve seen (let go), and one you’ve suffered (forgive and forget)…That may not be the right thing to do but sometimes is the most secured thing to do. Knowledge about reality shaped one side of my personality and the need to escape from one gave birth to another.
Every time someone would come to me and express their feelings, I took it to be a selfish approach where I assumed each might be seeking for something in return. I remember mentioning this to my elder sister that, even a compliment would piss me of; I took that as an insult. I don’t know what had got into me but I didn’t validate any of their feelings (those who’d expressed). And if I happen to like someone I would either distant myself from him, or be rude, ignore or start-up a fight. I wasn’t a believer, although I wanted to believe but how could I believe something that wasn’t real. I could however, love something that didn’t exist but could not believe. Contrast to this, there was other side within me where, personally I was very fond of romance novel or fantasy-adventure, anything and everything unworldly was my thing but deep down I knew none of it existed. Avoiding love and dreaming of the same…Where was all this coming from?
I see myself then and I see myself now, not much of me have changed; but again I am not the same. Between love and hate, unreal and real, and just like other people much like myself I have my personality split into two. As much as I loved the idea of being in love I am afraid to fall in love. I was this emotional type but for some reason I would portray myself just the opposite.
Back then even when I wasn’t in love, I was so much in love with the idea of being in love. I literally had no crush on no one but still you ask my favorite song when I was only 11/12 yrs old? It was Mariah Carey’s – without you; George Benson’s – Nothings Gonna Change My Love. Favorite novel you ask? “Sweet Valley”. And now after all these years, authors I like? “Nicholas Sparks” and almost all his novels turned movies and any other romantic stories and Yash raj films are my weekend comfort.
Fantasy world, fairy tales and love songs has always been my solace. I knew nothing could come-up good out of it other than a bestselling fiction film or a novel but still I submitted myself to it. Intriguing myself to believe in something that does not exist, provided me much relief. Am caught in between two personalities: idealistic (something I strongly feel and want to believe) and the other is realistic (something life has trashed in).
All these years, I’ve grown in and out of love. I have had a blissful moments and I’ve had my heart-broken. I have defined love differently, several times, depending on the situation I was at in each moment. I don’t know if love is overrated or underrated but it is no doubt over powering. Each one of us teaches the other a lesson and only time can tell, when and how you’ll come to realize what you’ve learnt from whom.
Love is when fantasy conquers the reality but not for long and that’s when you fall out of love. Maybe love isn’t eternal but what is is this on and off split personality we all share within ourselves. We’re changing all the time-with time, sometimes without even knowing. It takes us all life to figure out ourselves so how can we ever understand the other person? Change is certain as long as it is, there is no peace, no ultimatum, no such thing as perfect, no happily ever after but within those moment there is (if you learn to live within those moments and not saving it for later that is never going to come).
All miseries around the world but still continue believing in a miracle. All the betrayal but still continue to trust, all that you may have lost but still risk to give some more, live some more and love though it hurts. It’s true! There are two sides to every story, every personality, everything in life. If there is love there is hate, if there is power there is weakness, if there is good there is bad, if there is god there is evil, if there is reality fantasy is a part of it. If you and I are different or you and I are the same, it’s because of this. Many may chose to wake up with reality and sleepover the fantasy while others like me might sleepover the fact and wake-up to a fantasy. Sensibly I don’t make much sense here but otherwise I do.