The pursuit of Love?
Two years and more have passed since I joined Loyola, made friends, studied in mass comm. and discovered the different ‘me’. In these years, I have learnt more and lost less, unlike the rest of my life before this. I have been depressed of course, but I have also been happy, sometimes when at peace, sometimes when proud but most times when my friends make me feel special.
I am arrogant and rude but I like to think I am a good friend. Sometimes, they make me feel I am. I do complain when they don’t, not openly but in my strange silence. They would ask me what is wrong and ask me till I don’t smile again and that would make me feel special again and I would smile, laugh, cry and tell them what went wrong after all.
My life is not perfect. No one else’s is. I don’t think human beings were meant to have a perfect life. Some have some things that we don’t have and we crib about it. But when we do get them, they become no big deal. So human-nish. But what can we do? We are God-made.
I have a friend. Her name is Uma. In general, she is a normal friend – the Hi-Bye types. But there were times when we shared more than that. I was a loner back then and she was just too sweet. She would see me alone and sit beside and talk. Talk like we know each other for like ages! She would talk about her life, curiously ask about mine. There are people who feign their open spirit, but not Uma. From the day I met her, I have admired her honesty and the quality to “feel” so strongly above anything else and probably more than anyone else. We did not make many memorable moments in these few years, maybe because our lifestyles are too different and we, on the whole too similar, too emotional and sometimes even psychotic.
Undoubtedly she is the most positive person I know. Sometimes, I see myself in her and other times when I don’t, I try to search myself in her positive aura. Back then my life was ok, not complicated and hers was crazy. She loved too much but was cared less about. She had friends who took favours from her all the time, friends who she lent her shoulders to when they cried and friends who claimed their friendship to be her only source of happiness. She trusted them all. She loved them beyond words can describe and that is where it all went wrong. “Wrong” is not the right word I believe, but I guess you understand what I mean.
For months I have seen her unhappy, distressed, sick without a disease. She was into depression I know, but there was nothing I could do. I could just share excerpts from my life or just like most times ignore her unhappiness. I never thought I could help.
Today she is happy, probably on the top of the world. She is in love with the man who deserves her and even though she has lost the friends who claimed to love her, I am glad she did. She deserves more than their hypocrisy. Most importantly she is happy. I know that might not last forever but she is truly happy and that is, right now. The kind of happy I want to be, the kind I talk about and that I could have, if only I had let myself change for it.
As we were fooling around, she told me: Shalini, once you told me something and that has affected my life a lot. It changed my life actually.
Curious, I asked her what?
“When you stop waiting for love, it comes to you.”
I don’t know when I said that.
I couldn’t believe I said that.
Who was I back then?
It is just 2 years, have I changed so much? Or am I just a hypocrite?
May be my beliefs are transient in nature.
I don’t know how long I have been thinking about it. I don’t know how long I have been thinking about her! I am not jealous of her life – not a bit. I am perhaps one of those who are most happy for her and from all my heart. It is not because she is my friend or because I should care about her, it is all about hope.
When I look at her, I see myself. The emotional freak – too honest about her feelings. People leave me when they look too closely because I am messed up and because it is all in my head. I have always been taken for granted that I will inspire people, be the best company ever but somehow I know I will never be loved in the same way because I am not the “commitment material”. I am not complaining. That is an image I made for myself, because it kept me away from the pain and stress of it. I thought I was doing it right. The only thing I refused to admit was that I was like any other girl, any other human being. I needed love that was only mine and even if shared, not in the same way.
Nevertheless she gives me hope. Her positivity wants me to revive. It wants me to come out of my own shell, the shell that is inside me which protects my dignity. I want to come out of it and be what I dream myself to be. I want to be free. I want know what is right and I want to do what my heart asks me to do. I want to hope again but not by demanding my life to get itself right, but by doing what I think I should do right now. I have to stop waiting…