Disclaimer: This blog is for entertainment purpose only. The writer has love and respect for all people and communities on this beautiful planet of ours. So no holier than thou comments please. Enjoy the blog.
Hi loves, it all started when I turned over in my bed to face the man sleeping next to me. With my brain still sleepy, the subconscious mind very alert and the conscious mind still in a semi slumber, the word “LOVE” just popped up in my head. This really got me in a twist. Typically the first word that pops up into my brain at this time is “tea”. You see I am not one of those sappy, puppy eyed, lovey-dovey women who feel their husband/partner is the center of the universe and their whole world revolves around them. Or that the sun rises and sets with their man.
Au contraire, I am a lady, who announces very publicly among friends and family alike that “I love my space” from my hubby, kids and maid as well. Yea… I have no qualms in admitting that. I love my space. I cannot be around my family 24*7, day after day. Nor do I believe in always putting their needs ahead of my own. I believe in taking care of my self first. Physically, mentally and emotionally. My mantra of life is
“You cannot pour from an empty cup.”
This doesn’t insinuate that I am selfish, uncaring and don’t give a fig about my hubby. I love Mr. D. beyond myself.
So to come back to my early morning, semi sleepy reverie….”LOVE”.
I was confused as to why this word was the first one that came to my mind that morning. I mean it is the most commonly used, abused, over used, pseudo used (yes it’s a word I have made up) of the century. So I got out of bed, made a cuppa, sat on my swing, in my balcony and started thinking about it.
WHAT IS LOVE?
Is it the fluttering of butterflies in our stomach every time we see our partner? I am not so sure because every time my stomach flutters it is either because I am hungry, or sick from overeating. (The lock down has made this part worse) and about to throw up.
Is it the exciting breathlessness you feel when he/she is close? Then why does it happen when I climb a few stairs? Or when I run behind my little one, trying to shove beetroot juice down her throat? Nah. I have come to the conclusion that my breathlessness has more to do with poor stamina than love.
Or is it wanting to spend hours alone with the person? Talking and planning your future together, looking at the rising sun. I am not sure about this one too. If my hubby and I spend more than a few days together we end up fighting …. a lot. No holds barred, screaming match, drama type. In my arguments with him I will not only involve him but also his family, especially mummyji, the cat and the dog (and they aren’t even ours). I am not a fair fighter. Yes I admit it. I also admit to hiding this particular blog post from him. I also admit to never admitting this to him.
Is love, then, the constant physical attraction towards your partner? The lust and wanting that arises in your body, when he is freshly showered, or the wanting that arises in you when your man is smelling of that strong, heady fragrance of whisky mixed with his favorite brand of cigar? Yes but only partly.
So then again…..WHAT IS LOVE?
An incident from 4-5 years came to my mind. It was morning and my little daughter had to be sent to school. I hadn’t slept all night because of a cold and only in the wee hours of the morning could I grab some sleep without snoring like a machine that had it’s battery running. My little one has waist long hair and they needed to be combed. I was forcing myself out of bed when I saw my husband, comb in hand, rubber band in mouth combing her hair. Through half closed eyes I could see him sitting behind her, struggling to get a control of her long thick hair, all the while being gentle, so as not to hurt her. After a long struggle with the rubber band and comb, he managed to make a fairly decent braid. Yes a braid, no less. He knows I never send her to school with her hair open so he made a braid. In that moment I loved him like never before. Never have I felt such a strong rush of emotion, in my throat, eyes and my heart. I felt a sense of gratitude to him, for not waking me up, for not doing a half baked job combing her hair either.
I quickly grabbed my cell and took a picture, he didn’t even realize it. It still is my favorite picture in my gallery.
Another incident came to my mind. We had just had a huge fight. I don’t even remember what it was about. We were on the warpath. Mr D and I. Suddenly my parents dropped in, unannounced. My mortal fear was that he would not talk to them properly. Or to me . They may realise we were arguing. But to my utter shock and bewilderment, Mr D was his normal, most loving, considerate self with them. In the two hours they spent with us, Mr D discussed, politics, whisky and the stock market with my dad as is their usual routine. Not just that he was absolutely respectful of me too. My mom couldn’t figure out that we had been fighting upto the minute they rang the bell. And that says it all. (Moms have a knack of being the first ones to smell trouble in paradise.)
Then it hit me like a tornado…….
Love is just another word for… care, respect, loyalty and putting your partner’s needs before yours.
Yes….. love goes by many other names…..
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