Edited by: Teista Dwivedi
There’s so much around us that talks about love — Pinterest boards, street art, or even the t-shirts on sale at the mall. The word ‘love’ envelops us no matter where we go or what we do; it’s the premise of movies, of books, of food, even. I’d dare you to say you don’t use the word ‘love’ at least once every two days, but, in all honesty, I’d rather just take your money :)
And then there’s people like me, who fall for this pretense, the ones who love ‘love’, maybe. The ones who believe in happy endings and underneath it all, wish for this emotion to waltz into their lives and change it, as it does in every book and every movie. Love comes in, and everyone’s better for it; it makes you a better person, more complete, etc etc. The hopeless romantics, they call us.
Before I met you, I’d wondered why this was the term— I mean, what really is so ‘hopeless’ about finding love like one does in the movies? It seemed entirely plausible to me, you know, for someone out there to bump into their future soulmate and have a meet-cute, hold hands, slowly peel the layers of knowledge off of the other and eventually, fall completely, madly in love. I stood by the fact that enemies to lovers could happen, that friends could gradually cement themselves as lovers— and hey, it does happen in our daily lives, doesn’t it? They can’t be just movie tropes cooked up by someone who wants to feed us happiness, or yearning – they are, after all, based on life as it is. Anyone who questions that just hasn’t experienced the ‘magic’ of love yet, I’d say.
There’s something oddly endearing about what movie love is. Who wouldn’t want to feel like the main character of their lives, having everything together? A love that’s the other half of you, that you’d die for – and regardless of what happens, the happily ever after?
I still remember when we met, you know. It was the perfect meet cute, wouldn’t you say? A day like any other, I walked into tuition, super stressed, for the physics test we had. I was really tense about it, even though I’d studied up. You walked in, joking around as always— your bag dangling off your shoulder, and your stupid, charming smile on your face. You sat right next to me— we’d never talked, really, but somehow, you’d always sit by me, and say ‘How’s it going?’ while I smiled and nodded. This time, you said, ‘Please help me on this test, I’ll get you a chocolate.’
That’s how it started, a chocolate and a physics numerical. Who knew that soon enough, you’d have flashed that smile at me so often that I’d learn to recognise the faint shine in your eyes, and your little dimple? Who knew that we’d share secrets and read each other’s thoughts like it was effortless? And who knew that you’d walk into my world, and change it so deeply? If we had our movie, this is where the end credits would roll.
I know now, however, that life isn’t a movie. You were, at some point, my favorite person— but you were also the one who ruined him. You changed so fast into someone I couldn’t recognise; and smiles turned into tears, banter into fights. You ripped yourself away from me just as quickly suddenly as you’d walked into my life. And before I knew it, I doubted everything I knew about love, because this wasn’t how it would go if love was real, would it?
You took more than what was yours— you made me question my beliefs, my choices. I hated that I didn’t hate you (subtle reference there), and I hated myself for it, too.
But you also taught me something. Maybe, this whole time, we’ve been defining love wrong. Maybe all the running through the airport scenes weren’t just for show – they meant going the extra mile for the one you love, regardless of the hurdles. Maybe love isn’t changing who you are, but showing a person your worst sides, and being loved anyway – much as enemies to lovers works. Maybe love isn’t meant to hold you back to your current life, but to give you the space and time to fly, as Naina & Bunny in Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani learn. Maybe love isn’t your perfect fit, someone you’d kill for, but someone you care about so deeply it feels like you could. Happily ever after may not even be the main premise— it is acceptance, it is understanding, it is compassion, it is trust; and above all, a care, so profound it fulfills you.
And maybe you did love me, because you let me go. After all, even sacrifice is a form of love, na?
There’s something so oddly endearing about this view of love— the one who loves you, sees who you are- the good, the bad, the messy. They understand you, they accept you, and they love you, no matter what gets in the way. They go to the ends of the world for you, and they stay forever. They become your ‘happily ever after.’
This is what the movies and books all mean, I think. And love like this is everywhere. It’s in the way the mom on the street plays with her baby; the way the toddler holds his parents’ hands tightly while walking through the park, and how they gaze at him adoringly; in the old couple sitting on the bench, looking just as in love as the teenagers driving by.
It’s also in the way my mom cuts fruits for me while I study, in the way my dad helps me out & in the way my brother jokes around to lighten my mood. It’s in the way my friends grab my arm as we cross the street, in the way they listen to me ramble about the silliest of things, patiently, and give me advice. If love like this envelopes me, all the time, how dare I doubt that it exists?
Maybe love, truly, is everywhere.