Kusum Tamang's Loop hole of love

Loop Hole Of Love

We sit in the loophole of love and trust, often misunderstood and miserable. We forget to look into ourselves, what we are as individuals and why we are here. The cause, the face of life changes, the goals change and so do we at times. We give up so much to the altar of the grandeur of love, offer our heart and soul to its mercy and hope that love can fulfill our jars of happiness.

We walk together with the person we love, hand in hand, supporting each other immensely to get up there, reach the stars and what not. We are happy because they have achieved, we cry because they hurt. We stay hungry because they haven’t eaten and we don’t sleep because they are in pain. The entire notion of living is turned over; we are no more about ourselves, but about the other person, in its all entirety. We love, in the most organic natural way, no pretensions, no selfish intentions. We love, the little things, the tiny bits of joys we find scattered with that person; we find the meaning of life.

The story we have scripted is scratched back to zero. We start inking the paper with the calligraphy of love, of admiration, of affection, of dreams and of future. We work towards it, we face the sun and we face the snow. There is no stopping; no hindrances that could pull us back. We are just so much immersed into love that love itself isn’t enough, there is need of something more aesthetic and we go out to search for it.

Then comes the shock, that search becomes realization, enlightenment; that all that time, all that love, all the trust put into someone or whom we scribbled out the script of our life, was never in love with us and never even cared for us. The dreams were weaved for a selfish purpose, the love was all an act and the joys given were little gifts for each emotional exploitation. The utopian world we had created remains a utopia, never to be true. Our life, our world; suddenly shambles right around us, leaving us nowhere to hide, nowhere to run away; we are now exposed to the sympathy of hypocrisy and judgment.

We are lost, in our own battle. We are dying slowly, each day a little more venomous and hurtful. The smiles that we throw around every day are from practice, but we’ve long forgotten what real love is, what delight is. The days, the time, the moments, the feelings come shouting back at us, shaking us up, scaring us, reminding us of how there is no more tears to express the bleeding pain inside us.

We are alone, very lonely, with no soul to look after us, no one who will sit down with us and listen to us. There will be good people, people who love us, but just not that person who can sit with us all day and listen to us, who would just let us bawl out our hurt, our anger, our fears and our tears. There will be no one to just give us a good hug, assuring you that things would change, that heart would heal.

And this is the struggle of love. We can never be with the ones we love, that we can die for, that we can spend the rest of our life with until both get old and weak, whom we can love no matter how they look or how they are. We will never get to be with the one who’s meant to be ours. We will try hard to find the One in so many others and fail, hurting ourselves more. The ones we will be with will never ever understand us and appreciate us for being there, for walking beside them.

And this is the love we so much crave for…….

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