Love to some is like a cloud To some as strong as steel For some a way of living For some a way to feel And some say love is holding on And some say let it go And some say love is everything Some say they don't know At some stage or the other in our lives we experience the gnawing pangs of Love, this emotion that defies definition. It's a feeling that can only be felt, not described. An overwhelming, all-encompassing joy, it comes saddled with its share of sadness. I remember having countless crushes in school. My maths teacher, our neighbour's son, my best friend's brother and a great many others whom I fancied for the colour of their eyes, the shape of their moustaches, or just the way they walked -- harmless puppy love, as ephemeral as soap bubbles. Then came the stage of real relationships. Being in a girls' school, I hardly had the opportunity to interact with members of the opposite sex, and being relatively good at studies, the all-too-popular coaching centres were inaccessible territory for me. Socials and inter-institutional functions, therefore, were awaited with bated breath. Those three hours of unfaltering attention by a bastion of well-groomed young gentlemen provided us with enough to talk and feel exhilarated about for the next four weeks. It's been six years since I passed out of school. I vaguely remember only two or three batchmates who were 'going around'. We studied, we played, we lazed around, we blazed the streets when we went shopping. We were normal teenagers. But most of us, intrigued as we were, stayed away from the Boyfriend Syndrome. Yes, I had many friends who were boys, but boyfriends? No. They were to be avoided like the plague. The primary concern, of course, was parental infuriation. Who would want to face paternal angst and maternal advice regarding the opposite gender? Not me! So I grew up believing that love would happen when it had to. And sure enough it did. It came at an age when I had a career, a long-term plan, and a more or less settled life -- and I am not yet 25. I was mature enough to enter a relationship that demanded a lot of give and not so much of take. Love was the edifice I built on the foundation of friendship. It took time to blossom. It took a lot of understanding, loads of sharing and caring, and plenty of affection to become what it is today. And it meant a meeting of minds. You can say I belong to the traditional school of romance. But in my opinion, love needs to be nurtured. And it has to be distinguished from infatuations and pleasures of the flesh. Our parents' generation was fed lavishly with ideals. It was an era of constraints, restraints, respect, admiration... and romance. The long skirts, the burkhas, the demure looks, the curled tresses, the composure, the sensuality, the shy glance, these are all so hauntingly remindful of a bygone era. Our generation, with its openness and fading lines of proximity, has jumped on to the bandwagon of love so hastily that it is difficult to distinguish between physical attraction and mental compatibility. The kind of oddities we have been exposed to in the media have fast-paced our sensibilities so much that taking things slow requires great effort. I am amazed when I hear stories of school kids bragging about the number of physical relationships they have had. I am horrified to learn that girls barely 18 have already been in and out of seven to eight 'hook-ups'. I am sorry to learn about the kind of emotional baggage these kids carry in what are purely unemotional relationships. Some might blame the current state of affairs on peer pressure. But has anyone ever stopped to figure out where this peer pressure originates? Do any of us try and understand who is responsible for this paradigm shift? Does anyone stop and think how and when we graduated from the innocent love capers of Nargis and Raj Kapoor to the raunchy antics of Kareena and Govinda? Does anyone bother to delve into the psyche of teenyboppers? The mindset of this generation is all too evident in the way it handles its personal life. There are more relationships buckling under the pressures of lust than ever before. There is more focus on physical beauty than inner charm. There is more of closeness and less of intimacy. There is more of passion and less of emotion. There is more of frivolous comradeship and less of companionship. There is more of acquiring and less of sharing. There is more of opportunism and less of selflessness. There is more of me and less of us. We have hardened ourselves so much in this competitive age that we have forgotten the essence of relationships. There's much more to being someone's beau than just gifting them red roses and expensive cards from Archies. What about gifting the object of our affection our time, our company, our support, our friendship? What about setting priorities in our lives and focussing on each with sincerity? What about trying to be self-sufficient emotionally before letting ourselves loose? What about giving ourselves, and others, time and space to forge relationships? What about working towards meaningful and lasting friendships? What about honouring our commitments? What about channelling our energies and emotions towards building lifelong bonds rather than wasting them on seasonal relationships? We have but one life and we must experience everything that can make us stronger. True love happens once in a lifetime. And we should not become so tired by our frivolous flings that when it comes we aren't able to receive it with open arms. This is Mansi Bhatia's V-day gift to you all. Click here to read her last diary. Illustration: Dominic Xavier Tell us what you think of this diary Be part of an exciting venture! Rediff Diary Write a Diary!
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