Sound of Love

There are two halves to the one whole of a plant’s growth. 

Similarly, there can be two parts of love.

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Have you ever planted seeds or a sapling and see it grow? Initially, the roots form. They grow underground, unseen and silent. Bidding its time. And then, when the roots have gotten hold, the stems, leaves, fruits and flowers flourish. Slowly, steadily. Its loud, in your face and well, communicates to the whole world that ‘I am growing; I am flourishing’.
There are two halves to the one whole of a plant’s growth. 

Similarly, there can be two parts of love.

One is loud and deafening in its sound. It’s when you feel like your heart is expanding at a rapid pace, and will soon burst out of your body to envelope the whole world. It’s when you want to climb to the rooftop and shout to the whole world about the love you’re feeling. Your body, mind and soul screams and demands a witness to your Love. 

This is akin to the stems and branches of the trees that you are trying to reach the sky, continuously, constantly. The branches of your Love want to spread far and wide, taping into different fields and regions. And then the fiery flowers bloom to attract every eye that passes by. Like the Flame of the Forest, commonly known as Gulmohar in India or the Flame Tree. Scientists, in their usual grave tenor, call it the Royal Poinciana. Irrespective of what you call it, the vibrant vivid hues catch your attention and often take your breath away. Just like your intense feelings take your lovers breath away. The emotions move outward, from you to the world.

And then there’s the quiet love, silent and contemplative. Internal. Deep. It’s like the roots that spread wide and deep within. 

This is when you quietly stand on the sidelines of your lover’s story, witness to their beauty and well, life. When you let them be the hero of their story, beaming and happy. It’s when you bask in vibrant rays of their joys and happiness, all the while glowing in joy yourself. It’s when you find happiness and contentment in their peace. And nothing else really matters—not as much as your lover any way. This Love, like the roots, does not seek to shout or even intimate you of its presence. It just wishes to live, to be. And the flow of emotion? Well, it starts from you and flows deeper and deeper, slowly spreading through the veins and sinking further into your soul.

I hardly doubt that the two Loves exist separately. They’re part of the same whole. And the chances are, at different points in life, you’re likely to have felt both. 

Why love feels bittersweet 

The human body feels. It’s because of the tiny blue-green nerves that connect every single cell in the body. These nerves pass on ‘feel’ messages to the brain. A head ache, for instance, is one or many of the nerves telling the brain of some pressure. The brain, then, interprets this as pain. The same goes for smell, touch, sight, taste and sound. 
And then there’s the feeling inside your gut. Where you feel sorrow, happiness, nostalgia, anger, jealousy, fear, and yes, love. 
Love is that potent feeling that makes all your nerve endings exposed to the elements. Imagine every single nerve in your body screaming to your brain. It can be overwhelming. The feeling–the pain from the sheer excess–is at once both internal and external. 
And only the person you feel the love for can be the thin layer of balm to sooth the frayed nerve endings. 
Yet, this layer is thin, almost to the point of being a transparent layer. You want to wear your lover like skin. Very few lucky people actually do. 
But even then, the thinness of the layer reminds you of the danger lurking around. One tiny tear, one loss of layer, and your very soul can be in a world of pain. Your life can turn upside down. 
And you know there’s no medicine, no cure. Only the passage of time can dull your tired nerve endings. Only dull it, mind you. It never really goes away completely. Unless, you learn to wear a thick layer of defense that no one can smash through. 
But what suffocated survival can it be? 
Oh, what painful life loving would be? 

On loving, being in love and relationships

Sometimes we crave for the comfort and security of the stable life. Sometimes we yearn for the excitement of the highs. Such is the duality of the human mind.

Recently, I read an Elite Daily article about the difference between being in love and loving someone. It felt so right.

I always wondered how I manage to feel something for people I had loved years back. I knew I wasn’t ‘in love’, yet the pangs deep inside my heart confused me. I wondered if that is what people meant when they say “You can’t stop loving someone even after they are gone”.

In a way, they are gone from my life. But people always leave their footprints behind, don’t they?

The sheer capability of the human heart (figuratively, of course) to love so deeply, that too multiple times, stumps me.

Movies, books, stories, songs make it seem so easy to fall in love. I always wondered if my unease in the matter indicated something that was wrong with me and my psyche. But it does make sense now. Love is not about Romance. It is sometimes subtle and silent, something romance and the high of ‘falling in love’ can never be.

All said and done, I wish it were easier. Just a little bit. Otherwise, we would never stop making mistakes, stop confusing the myriad forms of liking and caring as love. Lasting love. The eternal kinds.

Until then, I can only rely on logic and rationale to deconstruct love and my feelings. And that sounds utterly colourless and lacklustre.


Sometimes we crave for the comfort and security of the stable life. Sometimes we yearn for the excitement of the highs. Such is the duality of the human mind.

Even in matters of the heart, this is so. Why else would we “fall out of love” years later, stuck in the rut and monotony of the daily routine. Why else would there be a mid-life crisis, and the lethal 10-year mark for relationships.

It’s been years since I got out of a relationship. I have been running away from the stability of a partnership since. I have had multiple highs, but run away as soon as things started getting serious. I, after all, only wanted the high.

I was often told I would crave for the stability of a monogamous partner as I grow old. I may have scoffed at it then, but I am starting to see the point. Yet, I can’t give in entirely to stability.

That, I believe, is the jump of faith I would be required to undertake some day when I find a partner. To ensure I get my dose of highs.

But the jump is too long, and I haven’t been in practice. I may be rusty, and I may fail. And this time, it would be harder harder to pick up the pieces.

Who knows what’s in store. 🙂 Someday, I know, the heart will overrule the mind and take flight.

Until then, I wait.