Skip to main content

Why love is overstatement and breakup is understatement!

Ever wondered why the world seems to exaggerate romance like it's the best thing that has happened to mankind?
Be it the countless movies glorifying the act of falling or being in love with the number of romance writers who make the singles feel almost miserable.
There are perhaps thousands of songs about love too.
Put the numbers aside and just imagine how many people depend upon this whole idea to earn their livelihood!
Maybe love is literally in the air. It's all around us.
Sometimes to the extent that it's choking us, all.
This beautiful feeling is often accompanied by setbacks, disappointments, challenges, etc. And it's not like 'When the going gets tough, the tough get going.'
People who have experienced heartbreaks or have been cheated on or fall out of love never tend to go all out in public.
Why?
When you were in a relationship, you are proud of your partner, you're happy.
You'd post pictures with them, of them, and let the whole world know what a fantastic feeling it is but when the unfathomable happens you disappear, mostly.
I would never come across a person who'd let the same world know about their breakups.
Why let someone know when you're happy but not let them know when you're sad or falling apart?
Why glorify or hype one side of the story and hide the other?
Why can't a heartbreak ever be thought of as a beautiful experience?
An experience that has enlightened you, helped you grow, rise up again, and not be afraid of experiencing the same feeling again, with a different person.
It is not just loved.
We tend to overstate only a part of the experiences in life and completely overlook the darker side of things.
Why are winners celebrated and losers critiqued? Why are achievers felicitated and failures looked down upon? Why are birthdays happy and funerals sad?
Why is love an overstatement and heartbreak an understatement?

Labels

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Add your thoughts here...

Popular posts from this blog

To Baburao Ganpatrao Apte

To Baburao Ganpatrao Apte, There's something about you that left an indelible laughter in my mind ever since the first time I saw you on screen. Wait, do you understand you are no comedian or joker. You are an alcoholic, debt stricken bloke always swaying to and fro between Raju's cunning mind and Shyam's righteous attitude. You affirmed your seniority everywhere but you never made any sense to me or anyone out there. Tenants need to pay their rent. You get it right? On my off days, when I see your unadulterated smile it bewilders me - I mean how can this man live with such conviction and ease. What about his isolated life? His debts? These questions linger on my mind. It's not okay to be unambitious and surrender to your fate but when life doesn't give you 'Star Fisheries', you can always show some content in your dilapidated 'Star Garage'. Your innocent gullibility, incorruptibility and rustic lunacy bought chuckles. Well, you need to learn that Sh...
1 comment
Read more

What do you do when your best friend is crying?

What do you do when your best friend is crying? There are a few persons whom you never wish to see with tears in their eyes. I attended college as usual. It was a regular Saturday afternoon; the cultural activities were in full swing. More deafening cheers accompanied loud music from the auditorium. I kept calling her from half an hour; she did not answer. She was nowhere to be seen too. I inquired few of our mutual friends if they had seen her around. "She is always with you," said one. "Heard you guys fought," giggled another. "What rubbish ya! They're best friends, they wouldn't have fought," argued a third. I smiled and left the place, still searching. There she was sitting in a corner, engaged busily on her phone. This pissed me off. I walked up to her and said, "Answer your phone." She looked up; her eyes were teary and red. "You crying?" I asked in disbelief. "No," she said. Her voice was thick. "Is it beca...
1 comment
Read more

Tea for Two!

 I pour water in the bright red pot, gleaming on the outside, a bit rusty on the inside. Red was always your color. Your wardrobe was literally fifty shades of it. The familiarity and warmth of the color red make me smile as I bring it to boil. “Look for angry water bubbles,” you used to say when you were teaching me how to make tea instead of stacking my kitchen counter with instant coffee sachets. I take out the twin tin containers marked “sugar” & “tea” off the cabinet and carefully put them in, systematically counting the number of teaspoons and measuring the amount in each. “I prefer coffee,” I used to whine but would still let you hold my hand as we put in the sugar, not too much, not too less, surprisingly always the right amount. Then in went the tea leaves, a bit less than I'd like, I always had a taste for intense flavors. But I rarely complained for I knew how much you valued your perfect, daily cup of tea. I then pour in the milk, thinking how I'd never been abl...
2 comments
Read more