Lessons in love

“Love is the pain. Love is the cure. Love is the wound. Love is the medicine.” He said.

“Why does one have to endure pain, and then get cured.” She asked.

“That indeed is a good question.”

“Have you run out of answers then?”

“Do you want an honest answer?”

“Obviously!”

“Hmm.”

“Well, let us put it this way. When the soil is parched, the farmer eagerly waits for the first spell of rain. Every day there is a prayer on his lips. One day it gets answered. And then, it rains, and pours. What were once cracks on the surface of the earth then become raging rivers. Floods wash away crops. The same farmer who had prayed for rains now prays for it to stop. The first sight of the sun makes him happy. He waits for the flood waters to subside. By the time the floods recede, he has lost everything. He cries and wonders where his next meal will come from. The vagaries of nature have lessons in built in them.”

“Which are?”

“You cannot plan, and you cannot assign a structure to falling in love. You cannot predict the outcome of falling in love. The farmer lost everything in the flood. What he did not lose is hope. And it is this very fabric of hope that gives love its perennial flavour.”

“Hmm.”

“Have you experienced a storm. There are gale force winds. There is the reverberation of thunder and there are flashes of lightning. It overwhelms you. You are in awe while it lasts. When it blows over, you gladly bask in the glory of the calm with a sense of relief. Love is like that very storm that hits you, with an unexpected ferocity and an unknown excitement. No preparation works. The best planning fails.”

“What then is the prescription for love?”

“One needs to be that glacier in love that perennially feeds the river with no expectation of colder temperatures for more ice to form on its surface.”

“So are you saying that one should love with no expectation of being loved.”

“No, what I am saying is that one must be bold in love. Be magnanimous. Let there be no dearth of love. If it comes back to you consider it to be a boomerang. If it does not, consider it to be a space rocket that has left the orbit of the earth into the depths of space never to return.”

“Is that not difficult, to not have expectations in love?”

“The farmer wanted rain so that saplings could sprout from the parched earth. He received so much rain that the farm was flooded. Love is not an equation that can be balanced. Love is the erratic dance of hormones. It is the probabilistic song of emotions.”

“So, what do I do?”

“Close your eyes, hear your breath, and let go.”

“Is it that easy?”

“Smiling is easy, but tell me, how many people greet you with a smile?”

“Hmm.”

“When you seek, you find. When you do not, you are found.”

“This is so beautiful.”

“Love is always beautiful. Ask those who have never experienced it. They are yet to be found. Be happy that you were fortunate enough to boldly face the storms of love head on.”

“Hmm, so should I wait while the winds are calm for another storm to brew. All the moisture anyway has been drained out of the ocean and a new storm may take ages to form.”

“Believe that love will most certainly find you once again. Believe that it is on its way already, just that it has chosen to walk leisurely instead of taking a plane.”

“Your words are so magical; I already feel healed.”

“I am glad that you are healed. Keep the smile on.”

“Can I fall in love with you?”

“Ha-ha, well all seats on my plane of love are taken, but who knows, there may be a no-show and you can be accommodated on the flight.”