The crossroads of love

 "Hi Neha, you look lovely in that black dress."

"Thank you Simran, well, you look pretty as well."

"I am in the usual pair of blue jeans and a grey top."

"This is a lovely café, look at the décor, the lights."

"And there is some groovy music playing!"

"Yes, I wish they had a dance floor!"

"And handsome men too, eh?"

They both burst into laughter.

"Okay tell me Neha, did you want to discuss something about your life?"

"You are one person I go to for advice. You are the go-to woman in my life."

"I am all ears then."

Simran slowly gulped cold coffee from her glass, while Neha sipped Cappuccino. The soft instrumental music and the warm lights created a perfect ambiance for a tete-a-tete.

"I thought I had understood the art of falling in love all along. You know Atul. I have been seeing him for a good three years now. I thought I had fallen in love with his calm and polished personality. Whenever I am with him, I feel that time has stood still. There is a tranquil vibe. Whenever he speaks, I smile. He thinks I understand and appreciate all that he says but, I mostly gaze at his good-looking face. His eyes seem to tell a story. With him, I feel time passes just like it does for a man who falls asleep at once after a hard day's work. There is no worry, but then again, I now think that there is also no excitement. Our relationship feels like an airplane cruising at thirty thousand feet on a clear sunny day with zero turbulence. When we go to a restaurant, we eat whatever he orders. I seem to agree with his choice of cuisine. We do not fight at all, because we tend to agree on everything. I do not know if that is how it is with most couples. I think I am living one long dream, a black and white one. All the other colors have somehow disappeared. Is this still love?"

Simran look a long hard look at Neha.

"If a raging storm makes you long for him, it is love. If the shadows in the moonlight remind you of him, it is love. If the early morning chirping of birds wants him to make you sing to him, it is love. If the sight of rain wants to make you dance with him, it is love. If noise makes you want to filter music from it, then it is love. Love is colorful, love is cheerful, love is madness, love is desire, love is bliss, love is the dragon in the desert, love is the fire in the storm, love is the candle in the darkness, love is the oxygen for your soul!"

Tears rolled down Neha's cheeks.

"I don't experience any of this, none at all."

"Then it is care sans love. You care for him; you feel comfortable in his company perhaps because he feels the same for you. "

"Is care not love then?"

"Care was and will always remain a derivative of love."

"There are so many relationships that thrive merely on care. The glow of youth will one day fade into the frailness of old age. Care will last you a lifetime. On the other hand, if you are in love, the spark may not last that long."

"Is it okay to say then that care is from the mind and love is from the heart?"

"No. Love supersedes all human emotions; it is the zenith of all expressions."

"Hmm. I don't want care all my life, I want love now and maybe care later."

"This is not a buffet Neha, you don't seek love, it finds you, and trust me when it does, it is the absolute dance of the senses."

"What do you find so attractive in Rahul?"

Simran blushed.

"Look Neha. For starters, Rahul does not have the chiseled cut of the face of a model. He is rather plain-looking. However, he has the ability to create a spark by striking two pieces of stone even underwater."

"Ha Ha, are you serious?"

"Well, what I mean is, he ignites passion with his looks. His eyes pierce the core of my soul in a positive way. I feel weak in the knees when I am with him. He has a baritone voice. A tall and dusky man, mostly wearing a hint of stubble. There is nervousness but in a positive way. There is a mad rush of excitement. The world seems more colorful, there is a raw energy in him. And when he smiles, it feels like a fresh wave from the seafront has just hit me. With Rahul it is an impatient attraction, one that makes you want to climb to the terrace and shout out loud, 'I love you, Rahul'. I cannot describe how I feel in his presence. There is an uncontrollable madness. That is my idea of love, well, to be honest, that is our idea of love."

"Do you think it will last?" Neha asked, now a tad happy and in control of her emotions.

"No vanity, but lucky are those who experience true love in their lifetime. It happens only once. And when it does, it happens with the ferocity of a gale-force wind. If the storm of love lasts a lifetime like some storms last on Jupiter for ages, I will be happy. If, on the other hand, the wind blows out and there is a serene calm after that, I will reminisce the storm for the rest of my life. Nostalgia is self-indulgence. The mere memory of the storm will have the power to keep the flame of love inside me alive for the rest of my life. That Neha is the power of true love, ferocious, magnetic, all-encompassing."

"I have learnt so much about love today. It makes me feel so much better."

"Glad I could help you."

"Okay tell me, what do I do about Atul."

"You have not even experienced a mild breeze yet, my advice would be to wait for the storm in your life to blow you away and sweep you off your feet."