Love as a fantasy, as a bed full of roses, the butterflies and the mushiness are so passé and they better be, I’m almost quarter to a century now.
I came across a quote on a random someone’s page today, “Love rescues you from reality” it read. If it was a few months ago, I would have liked it, shared it or even tagged a bunch of other love sick people I know, tossed in half a dozen hash tags and topped it all with a “True that!” status update. Somehow, things are not the same anymore, may be I’ve seen too much, known too much or whatever be the case, I was tempted to contradict. To comment on that page would have been a disaster with almost the million hate messages and advice saying, “you might be going through love failure” and some on “how to fall in true love” etc., So here I am, expressing my way of looking at love and it’s ways.
“They talk about the love that rescues you from reality. I believe in the love that walks with me hand in hand through the reality of day today life. Down the crowded lane of work stress, the loud family market place, vengeful dark alleys of burglars and wafting smell of freshly brewed coffee in the neighbourhood street. Love is not about the butterflies that tickle you in your stomach, making you forget the reality. Love is that whiff of fresh air at home and those timeless moments gazing at the butterflies that dance around the flower pots in your balcony garden.”