All girls wait for their happily ever after-grow up with dreams of watching themselves walk the aisle on their wedding date, or so do most girls I come across make me believe.
I never dreamt of marriage. I never imagined myself living in a big mansion where I would be sitting on a plush lounge with two doting kids and a mantle-place behind us portraying a huge frame of my husband and me. Yes, I am technically faulty by default.
But as far as I can remember-I think I have often dreamt even with waking eyes, of someone coming on a white horse from out of a haze, looking stately and handsome and smiling at me as his stead paces closer in slow motion. Yes, I am technically a douche bag too. I believe I was responsible for all those Yash Chopra movies doing well in the 90’s because I stepped on the threshold of my youth then with such buffoonery in my head. Filmy I know, sue me.
What if such dreams do come true? Do we have the sensibility to realize it or the sense to accept it? Do we have the strength to contain it and the guts to declare it, even to ourselves? What if our happily ever after is ever with us but we continue to search? What if these dreams are nothing but dreams or what if the actuality is a dream that is waiting for you to awaken from?
Dreams are fascinating-it is god’s way of saying sorry for the reality he created. But an apology is often not what we desire. We desire the healing of wounds that mostly are self inflicted. If I go out to search love, I would find it waiting on every corner I turn. But am I ready to take chances to turn on a crossroad that would take me perhaps windingly to the road less travelled. But then all roads less travelled must be so for a reason. One man’s adventure can be another man’s trauma.
I wonder why love comes constituted with pain. And then a love without pain-is really love or just a sense or whiff of it? Love is the epicentre of all that’s in motion-be it the earth, be it the beating heart. If love is all we need, why do we rush after money and things it can buy? I want to give love a chance but am I ready to take a chance? What if I find it outside the constraints of my wedlock? Blasphemy? What if I rediscover it with my partner? Herculean? What if I actually just need to fall in love with myself again? Seamless?
Love needs to be given a chance just as life gives us one. Cliché as it sounds but can’t seem to remember anything else more apt here-We can’t stand at the edge of a pond and try to gauge its depth. We have to take our feet out. It may be cold and then comes the decisive juncture. Should I still venture forward? Should I just dip my feet and come out dry? Should I move in and allow myself to be soaked for I am tired of being parched? And in case I do get sodden, would I smear the Ghats I turn back to with dripping droplets that spill with every step I take? I am at the Ghats of the only world and standing here, wondering if the water’s too deep or my step too steep!
P.S. Been in a weird mood lately, don't know if I make sense. My internet's mummy's been fucked, so not being able to read posts. Hopefully, soon and thank god for pen drives.