After a few sentences exchanged, automatically, evidently, inevitably, each time that i have made new friends, we somehow end up at the question of love. if you are married or in love, everyone's interested in knowing other's story of love.. a story that always leaves people smiling and wondering.. each story of love is so special and so unique..
incidentally, i have made so many new friends and narrated my story of love so many times that its by heart now, word by word... but is that truly the story that matters..
My point is, we are always shown a picture perfect for love, but is that all? is love waiting for hours for each other, sharing all dirty and good secrets, doing wild things, going on mad drives at midnight, watching movies together, writing mushy letters to each other, arguing one moment and then cuddling the another, dancing in the rain, walking by the beach, resting under a tree, sitting hours in just silence of togetherness, buying silly things for each other, singing songs after couple of drinks, is this something what you have in mind when you think of a story of love? when a gal meets boy, boy meets gal, they laugh and argue, they party and socialize and "accidentally" fall in love and become inseparable. however we start a story, if it ends up with girl and boy falling madly compassionately terribly in head over heels, rollingly and quite roaringly in love.. so much so that they end up thinking marriage would be the ONLY(i exclaim, so you understand the depth of what i mean) salvation to their love... and then... they m a r r y...
NO No , am not starting the typically same story about gal meets boy, love happens, marriage too and then starts nagging, taking for granted, complains, MIL nags, complications.. don't wait for melodrama about how love terribly changed and my life was ruined after marriage and how my husband took me for granted...i have been all over there..been madly, blindly in love, fought with parents to marry to remain in love, got married, fought with his parents for obvious reasons, fallen out of love, betrayed, anchored back, won over, head over heels in love again, mysteriously disappointed at times, but mostly in plain comfortable zone of love, happy and reconciled and i call it my little box of love, a box where i store away all these years of togetherness, to which when i give one look, it revives me out of disdain and gives me the ability to fall in love again..i plan to have this zone longer..
Because in these 10 years of knowing my husband(mark it, knowing, not 10 years of marriage), from day 1 when he started wooing to this day, we carry our own boxes of love, separate from one another, but of each other, with borrowed happiness, with shadows of sadness, with a few achievements and a trail of disappointment, with a few layers of awesomeness and some rugged ones of the years taken for granted, but owing to our varied perspectives, we choose to have them apart. and i know i open my box every now and then to bring me a new shade in love, to redeem any reining dullness, to remind me to love the man who for sure takes time out to open his box of love too...how else, otherwise, does he too smile and gaze like an ever so surprised and indulged lover. how does he put a neat velvet cover over my book of blunders and own upto it and decorate it with frills and colors, so much so that it intrigues my very core and how does he, otherwise, embrace it with full responsibility?
and no matter how long i go on to explain how the magic of love works, married or not, presently in love or not, if once you have loved, you know its magic and its just not worth regretting if just the person involved is not part of your life anymore, moral of the story is Peter Gabriel's got me speaking and i am gonna leave you now with the comfort of cherishing love....go on, slip out your box of love and refer to the book of love as you indulge in some heart felt memories...
sealed with love
Somi
incidentally, i have made so many new friends and narrated my story of love so many times that its by heart now, word by word... but is that truly the story that matters..
My point is, we are always shown a picture perfect for love, but is that all? is love waiting for hours for each other, sharing all dirty and good secrets, doing wild things, going on mad drives at midnight, watching movies together, writing mushy letters to each other, arguing one moment and then cuddling the another, dancing in the rain, walking by the beach, resting under a tree, sitting hours in just silence of togetherness, buying silly things for each other, singing songs after couple of drinks, is this something what you have in mind when you think of a story of love? when a gal meets boy, boy meets gal, they laugh and argue, they party and socialize and "accidentally" fall in love and become inseparable. however we start a story, if it ends up with girl and boy falling madly compassionately terribly in head over heels, rollingly and quite roaringly in love.. so much so that they end up thinking marriage would be the ONLY(i exclaim, so you understand the depth of what i mean) salvation to their love... and then... they m a r r y...
NO No , am not starting the typically same story about gal meets boy, love happens, marriage too and then starts nagging, taking for granted, complains, MIL nags, complications.. don't wait for melodrama about how love terribly changed and my life was ruined after marriage and how my husband took me for granted...i have been all over there..been madly, blindly in love, fought with parents to marry to remain in love, got married, fought with his parents for obvious reasons, fallen out of love, betrayed, anchored back, won over, head over heels in love again, mysteriously disappointed at times, but mostly in plain comfortable zone of love, happy and reconciled and i call it my little box of love, a box where i store away all these years of togetherness, to which when i give one look, it revives me out of disdain and gives me the ability to fall in love again..i plan to have this zone longer..
Because in these 10 years of knowing my husband(mark it, knowing, not 10 years of marriage), from day 1 when he started wooing to this day, we carry our own boxes of love, separate from one another, but of each other, with borrowed happiness, with shadows of sadness, with a few achievements and a trail of disappointment, with a few layers of awesomeness and some rugged ones of the years taken for granted, but owing to our varied perspectives, we choose to have them apart. and i know i open my box every now and then to bring me a new shade in love, to redeem any reining dullness, to remind me to love the man who for sure takes time out to open his box of love too...how else, otherwise, does he too smile and gaze like an ever so surprised and indulged lover. how does he put a neat velvet cover over my book of blunders and own upto it and decorate it with frills and colors, so much so that it intrigues my very core and how does he, otherwise, embrace it with full responsibility?
and no matter how long i go on to explain how the magic of love works, married or not, presently in love or not, if once you have loved, you know its magic and its just not worth regretting if just the person involved is not part of your life anymore, moral of the story is Peter Gabriel's got me speaking and i am gonna leave you now with the comfort of cherishing love....go on, slip out your box of love and refer to the book of love as you indulge in some heart felt memories...
sealed with love
Somi
Awesome!!!!!!!!!! I have no words to describe!!!!!
ReplyDelete:) thanks
ReplyDelete