Come February and you’ll see the autumn leaves shed their lovely green colour, slowly and steadily breaking off from the branches of the tree. Come February and you’ll soon notice the hullabaloo of the ruckus made out of one of the purest and most supreme forms of emotion- Love it is!
“Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but love.”
The Bard had tried his hands at attempting to define the complexities and the depths of love in the early sixteenth century and here we stand today celebrating the so called day(week and even month) of love in the e age of today with apps unbound and portals profound, almost sweeping the labour and the art of wooing and caressing the lover with undying efforts and intensity.
‘Yeh Chaand sa roshan chehra, zulfon ka rang sunehra…yeh jheel si neeli aankhein koi raaz hai inme gehra, tareef karu kya uski, jisne tumhe banaya”; said the flamboyant Shammi Kapoor to his lady love Sharmila Tagore in Kashmir Kii Kali during the 60’s; while Rajesh Khanna went, ‘humein tumse pyaar kitna yeh hum nahi jaante, magar jee nahi sakte tumhare bina’ in the 70’s and 80’s; and then finally the king of romance. Shah Rukh Khan going, “…teri baahon mein mar jaayein hum”, amidst the lush green ambience of romantic Switzerland in the 90’s.
Wooing the lover was an art and this art involved dedication, pursual and thereafter, immense joy involved with the process of having been a part of creating the art. Dadaji didn’t wait for a certain Valentine’s day to get Dadi a set of Gajra’s. Neither did Papa wait for a valentine week to lend Mom, a helping hand in the kitchen. It wasn’t a daily affair either, but they did it every now and then, just to bring back that warm and loving smile on the lover’s face. It wasn’t special ‘cause it ought to be special, it was a moment they shared together and that moment of togetherness was what made it special.
The new age romance star goes yo; “take your ID, passport, credit card and zipper, kar na koi fikar, just do everything quicker..cause yaar tera superstar desi kalakar, main put jatt da manda nai haar..”
Said the withered leaf to its tweaked out deciduous branch ; “I’m done. Why stay stuck on when I can fly away and move on!”
The yo lover is smart in his moves, better still he even has choices all around and knows that there’s always a plan B, a C, or even a D… He has the yo smartphone with a dozen apps. He adds a cheesy status on to it with a close pout picture and posts it around making it a yo love affair. The hand written love letter (that was sometimes even delivered by the pigeons) and thereafter the Archies and Hallmark cards, that smell of warmth and care even a decade later, are conveniently replaced by Valentine What’s app/Facebook status messages. The gift, the flower, the jewellery, even the dinner are all just a click away. Hey, why take the pains of going mall hopping when we could have it all delivered at the doorstep!
Here’s to shunning the labour of blending thoughts with words in the hand written letter.
Here’s to shunning the labour of going out there with all the excitement and enthusiasm to find the perfect gift, the perfect card.
“The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men.”
The live oak there, stands evergreen and tall; loves its leaves, hates to part with it, and continues looking at the leaves with even more warmth and love each year, as they both grow older.
It’s been 27 years, since their marriage. He wakes up to that beautiful face each morning and looks at it with emotions deeper and stronger. He makes her a hot cup of tea, for a change today, and both share a laugh over this ever special morning tea. She arranges a special evening with a sumptuous meal; the fragrance of the candles, lighting up the atmosphere; some mild music; some casual conversations; only that, the venue is no 5 star hotel but their very own verandah! Well, that’s their special day. Their special date!
Love thy Labour!!
Only if we could infuse some labour into the so called love today! Talk of parables and far sighted prophecy, true said Shakespeare..
“These are barren tasks, too hard to keep.”
© 2015 reachyashika. All rights reserved.