Imaginary Love

I love mankind….but I find to my amazement that the more I love mankind as a whole...hmm....the less I love individual people.

In my thoughts I often visualize ecstatically the sacrifices I could make for mankind....hmmm....

Indeed I might even accept martyrdom for my fellow men if circumstances suddenly demanded it of me.

In actual fact...however....I cannot bear to spend two days in the same room with another person.

And this I know from personal experience....hmmm....

Whenever someone is too close to me....I feel my personal dignity and freedom are being infringed upon.

Within twenty four hours I can come to hate my room mate....perhaps because she eats too slowly or because she has a cold and keeps blowing her nose.

I become a man’s enemy as soon as he touches me...hmmm....

And just to make up for it....the more I hate individual people....the more ardent is my general love for mankind.

A true act of love....unlike imaginary love....is hard and forbidding.

Imaginary love yearns for an immediate heroic act that is achieved quickly and seen by everyone.

People may actually reach a point where they are willing to sacrifice their lives....as long as the ordeal doesn’t last too long....is quickly over – just like on the stage.....with the public watching and admiring.

A true act of love...hmmm....on the other hand....

Requires hard work and patience...and....for some....it is a whole way of life.

Ghost !

hmm….alas…for some people I feel like a ghost...that can revisit the person as many time as it can...but can't make itself seen or felt...

Though I (the ghost) share all the joys and sorrows of my host...

...and if somehow I succeeded to show myself to the person...

hmm...result more probably would be awakening of terror and horrible repugnance.

May be that person would not like my appearance…figure….the way I carry myself…

So…there’ll always be a boundary between that person and me…

And I wonder… why is that?

Pity Party

I've noticed that some people like to feel victimized.

When something doesn't go their way….or some mishap befalls them…they curl into a fetal position and bemoan how the cruel….unfair world is out to get them.

I know this because I have done this...hmmm.

Frankly…we've all probably thrown ourselves a pity party or few in our lives when things just don’t go our way.

So I have to wonder….why do we feel the need to feel like victims?

Like the world is out to get us?

Isn't that counterintuitive?

Perhaps it is a mechanism to deal with negative events in our lives.

There is some glory to being a martyr…hmmm…I think it's about frame of mind.

Like most people…I get annoyed from time to time about stupid encounters in life.

Someone drops the ball because he procrastinated on a dinner party day. So you're the one who has to take on her workload.

Someone was lazy and didn't feel like doing something. So you're the one who has to take on her workload.

Usually…in a Perfect Universe….when Person A procrastinate….Person A is the one who must deal with the consequences.

In life…however…when Person A turned the in-laws down…HR is the one who has to deal with the consequences..hmm....

At this point...hmm....instead of getting mad…however…I should change my frame of mind.

Instead of thinking…"Because of these lazy people…I need to work late and clean up the kitchen"….

I should remind myself that the more work that I do…the more valuable I become as a Daughter-in-Law.

And…without throwing anyone under the bus….I need to let my beloved husband know that I've done more than my share of work.

The key is to self-promote or self-sell. (Or so they tell me.)

I detest people who brag about themselves.

You know the ones...hmmm.....

They dominate the conversation at lunch or family meetings…regaling everyone within earshot with tales of their valor on Dinner A....Marriage B....or Helping C.

They boast…they laugh at their own jokes…and they heartily agree and nod when they get props.

I really dislike those people.

And no matter what…I don't think I could ever be like them.

So there seems to be a fine line between cockiness and confidence.

I just need to find it and remind myself: as people pile more work on you….remember to let the Mother-in-Law know.

In the end….it makes the workpiler look lazy….and makes you look awesome.

The question is: Does anyone care?

The knock

hmm....

Last night....

....in the darkness.....

I invented a new pleasure.....

And as I was giving it the firt trial......

hmm....an ANGEL and a DEVIL came rushing towards me.....

They met at my heart's door....

I stopped....and wait for one of them to knock at the door....

I know....Devil's knock means to carry on....so I decided to open my heart's door...on Angel's knock only....

Instead....they fought with each other....over my newly created pleasure....

The one cried....."Its a sin !" -

The other laughed..."It is a virtue !"

And they kept fighting...fighting...fighting...none of them...hmm....knocked !

Love...Honor...Cherish

It is a beautiful spring’s day many years ago...the sun shining shimmery-hot and the world vividly green and rich.

She’s six years old and all dressed up in a ghaghra type blue checked dress...her brown hair pretty and pulled back in a bow.

Her brothers and sisters are dressed up...too...as is fitting for such an important occasion.

For someone is getting married today.

It’s the first time she’s been to a wedding and it is so exciting.

The party is small and the ceremony takes place right there in her family’s living room....the couches and furniture moved out for the day and rows of chairs set in place for guests.

She very badly wants to shower the flowers on the bride and groom and is upset when she is told...‘no...there isn’t going to be anything like that.’

But she holds her tongue and swings her feet in Sunday shoes against the rungs of her chair as she waits for it all to begin.

She watches the bride come with two of her elder cousins..past the rows of chairs....to her groom.
She watches them after they sat on the same sofa…watches them making room for the other people to sit besides them...their smile…nods….watches as they feed each other kheer (sweet) and watches as the photographer takes photos of them in the garden.

The bride is as beautiful as a princess in her eyes and both she and the groom look so grown up.

She always remembers that first one...snapshots of it distinct and warm in her memory...that first wedding when she was little.

And she dreams of one day...of being a beautiful bride and of a man to be her husband and groom.

She dreams of love that will last forever and be as secure as rock..hmmm....just like her parents... just like the fairy tales.

Time speeds by and as she watches…well...she learns as time goes by...that happily-ever-afters aren’t always a given.

And one day...that first bride and groom find they’ve lost that joyous-in-love and have become two-apart instead of two-together-as-one.

On that day...that little girl turned grown-up cried.

She cried for them and every other bride and groom that she saw turn away from each other.

And she wondered…wondered so many things.

That little girl in ghaghra type blue checked dress was me...over so many years ago.

I’m no longer a little girl – I’m all ‘grown-up’ though sometimes I don’t feel it – and I no longer see things as black-and-white as I used to;


I know that this world is never perfect and sin hurts...hurts...hurts and can turn two-together into two-apart.

I know that my MAKER never promises us happily-ever-afters....but I know that He hurts when He sees sin break us.

And I know that sometimes love dies...sometimes love is killed...whether by both or one.

I know this.

And as I prepared for our wedding....as my beloved husband and I prepare to begin life together-as-one....I can’t help but think of that first wedding I went to.

So joyous...so perfect...with every hope and expectation of happily-ever-after…only to end in divorce...separation and two-no-longer-one.

I think of it and it scared me.

I can’t control the ending of our ‘story.’

Maybe that’s what I feared.

I can’t make our love last forever because love requires two people freely giving to each other and if I force him to love me forever....it won’t work because love cannot be forced.

It’s a leap of faith....this loving and committing to marriage.

It’s promising him my love and holding fast to God’s grace and strength to do so....during good times and bad.

It’s believing and trusting that his promise of the same to me is true.

And most importantly...it’s keeping God as the center of our world and keeping Him our joint focus.

Love is an action and there will be days when I won’t feel like loving him...hmmm....

I won’t feel like holding my tongue against sharp words.....

...nor will I feel like washing his clothes or sitting next to him at dinning table.

We’re both human and we are going to hurt each other...we will let each other down and sometimes....we won’t act out love as we should.

We aren’t perfect.

And with that realization....we’ll remember....only through God’s grace and love....we can do this:


Love...Honor...Cherish....hmmm....