Love comes in different forms and structures. As I try to grasp the attention of my students with innumerable analogies and countless digressions.. for in my class these wandering detours lend priceless insight into the lesson.. I can feel the adrenaline rush in my body. During a lecture, if you dont feel this aqueous surge in your veins which steers you into a nebulous land of semi-consciousness, then rest assured that youre leaving the classroom with a job only half done... Then love comes in solid and tangible form as you carry your friends daughter with her legs dangling somewhere around your waist. You get to play with her woolly bunch of hair which are somewhat harnessed by a glassy blue butterfly clip and you are surprised that the tiny hands casually clasped around your neck are more firm than a mere snuggle. Surely you wont run out of love as long as you have kids around you.. As you survey the mountain of books that you have covered in brown paper at the start of a new session, you realise that sometimes love only comes in shades of fawn and ginger. And with a nagging pain in your nape, you know that this is the longest stretch of gift-wrapping marathon that youll ever come across in your life... Love also comes as a whiff of endearing breath down your neck which is more haloed than all the gold in the world. At moments like these, I concentrate on my breathing and take in as much of the airy glitter as I can.. And sometimes as I move around the house, I come across a lovely fragrance which is beyond the bounds of reason. It is stronger than the Dior on the dresser, yet faint and elusive like the earliest childhood memory. Someone once told me that such wafts of enchanting trail only tell us about the beautiful spirits surrounding us. I think of my grandmother. She is the most beautiful person I have come across. But I dont want to think of her as a spirit. She is not just an image in my mind. I can still trace the wrinkles on her arms and feel the length of her long black hair. Although its well over a decade that I have last seen her, I remember her with the solid conformity of her wispy white sarees and her fascination for perfumes. Sometimes love comes in all three forms... You remember the person with the minutest physical detail and atleast in your dreams they are always within reach.. You think of her favourite scents or just the delicious smell of a delightful meal cooked by her. And finally love means uncongealed distilled pain gushing through your veins, drawing out your last breath and leaving you in an emotional vacuum where you dont want to breathe anymore.
Posted on: Sun, 30 Mar 2014 16:29:18 +0000
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