In movies we have often seen love stories having fairy-tale endings, the hero getting the heroine, overcoming all obstacles and living happily ever after. Not that movies not ending on a high note are not made (they sure are, and in a significant number), but even with those films, at the very least there is a satisfaction, that the lead protagonists had at some point experienced mutual love, had had their love reciprocated with the same intensity and the same ferventness with which it was given. Many of these stories stay with us after leaving the cinema hall and come back to haunt (good haunting this one) our memories even when they are long gone.
What lay forgotten are those stories which play out in our real lives, and not the reel ones, stories where although we do love, and love dearly; but the adoration, the ardent admiration is never returned, never reciprocated, stories with not even a far-fetched possibility of a happy ending. Now, when I talk of love, I am taking the prerogative of applying some uncommonly found common sense and not counting impossible scenarios, like being deeply in love with a film-star or something, because although your stars might shine upon you, making this dream turn into reality; more often than not this is definitely not the case.
Love has universally been acknowledged as a beautiful sensation, and those who have experienced true love are considered blessed. Girls have been known to have reposed their faith in the ‘he loves me’ ‘he loves me not’ game, how so ever irrational the act seems to a bystander (or even to them at times), in the hope of finding solace in destiny, in signs and symbols; holding on to the very last shreds of optimism they can lay their hands upon. What guys do in such state of affairs is something I am not very sure about, and despite all claims of their single track mind, there is no denying that they too possess a soft heart, capable of showering boundless love and affection.
You never know when you stumble upon this divine feeling. One day you do not know that person, and the next thing you realize you might be heads over heels in love. Or maybe you have known someone for ages; you had been friends for too long, prior to learning that there was a deeper attachment involved, that this is the person you want to share the rest of your life with. Some of these tales end beautifully while in some less fortunate circumstances, even before you can comprehend that you are in love, fate plays the villain, separating you before the love has got a chance to blossom.
At times you are not able to convey your feelings to the other person, thinking “yaar itni bhi kya jaldi hai”, being afraid of being snubbed; at other times you actually face the dreaded rejection; or at yet other times (worst case scenarios) the person you have fallen for is already committed, in love with someone else. Various reactions ensue from the aforementioned situations; some are able to deal with it and move on, some get stuck to loving that very person (with or without any hope of ever getting him, the selfless love), while others who are the extremely sensitive (read weak..not that being sensitive is being weak…but that the step taken by them classifies these people as weaklings) kind take the easy way out and decide to end their lives not caring an ounce about all the others who are concerned for them.
The first and the third situation (one being welcome and the other frowned upon) are comparatively better than the second one. What can be more problematic and hurtful than dealing with the fear of rejection or actually seeing your loved one with somebody else? This would be harder for those who had come really close to winning the affections of their guy/girl and one tiny mistake might have cost everything. There are people who deal with the same day in and day out; and manage to live through it without complaining. Their chronicles are never documented, never are they given due acknowledgement, never credited for their patience, tenderness and the will to smile despite the constant pain in their hearts.
Stephen Chbosky wrote in The Perks of Being a Wallflower "So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be." And this is how their life is, happy yet sad, contented yet a longing for a little more…and above everything the desire to survive, to not let their emotions take control of the better part of their minds. Perhaps, these love stories end the same way as ended a novel I had been recently reading… “And they lived happily ever after, without each other”. Or do they really?!
What lay forgotten are those stories which play out in our real lives, and not the reel ones, stories where although we do love, and love dearly; but the adoration, the ardent admiration is never returned, never reciprocated, stories with not even a far-fetched possibility of a happy ending. Now, when I talk of love, I am taking the prerogative of applying some uncommonly found common sense and not counting impossible scenarios, like being deeply in love with a film-star or something, because although your stars might shine upon you, making this dream turn into reality; more often than not this is definitely not the case.
Love has universally been acknowledged as a beautiful sensation, and those who have experienced true love are considered blessed. Girls have been known to have reposed their faith in the ‘he loves me’ ‘he loves me not’ game, how so ever irrational the act seems to a bystander (or even to them at times), in the hope of finding solace in destiny, in signs and symbols; holding on to the very last shreds of optimism they can lay their hands upon. What guys do in such state of affairs is something I am not very sure about, and despite all claims of their single track mind, there is no denying that they too possess a soft heart, capable of showering boundless love and affection.
You never know when you stumble upon this divine feeling. One day you do not know that person, and the next thing you realize you might be heads over heels in love. Or maybe you have known someone for ages; you had been friends for too long, prior to learning that there was a deeper attachment involved, that this is the person you want to share the rest of your life with. Some of these tales end beautifully while in some less fortunate circumstances, even before you can comprehend that you are in love, fate plays the villain, separating you before the love has got a chance to blossom.
At times you are not able to convey your feelings to the other person, thinking “yaar itni bhi kya jaldi hai”, being afraid of being snubbed; at other times you actually face the dreaded rejection; or at yet other times (worst case scenarios) the person you have fallen for is already committed, in love with someone else. Various reactions ensue from the aforementioned situations; some are able to deal with it and move on, some get stuck to loving that very person (with or without any hope of ever getting him, the selfless love), while others who are the extremely sensitive (read weak..not that being sensitive is being weak…but that the step taken by them classifies these people as weaklings) kind take the easy way out and decide to end their lives not caring an ounce about all the others who are concerned for them.
The first and the third situation (one being welcome and the other frowned upon) are comparatively better than the second one. What can be more problematic and hurtful than dealing with the fear of rejection or actually seeing your loved one with somebody else? This would be harder for those who had come really close to winning the affections of their guy/girl and one tiny mistake might have cost everything. There are people who deal with the same day in and day out; and manage to live through it without complaining. Their chronicles are never documented, never are they given due acknowledgement, never credited for their patience, tenderness and the will to smile despite the constant pain in their hearts.
Stephen Chbosky wrote in The Perks of Being a Wallflower "So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be." And this is how their life is, happy yet sad, contented yet a longing for a little more…and above everything the desire to survive, to not let their emotions take control of the better part of their minds. Perhaps, these love stories end the same way as ended a novel I had been recently reading… “And they lived happily ever after, without each other”. Or do they really?!
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