Love and its myriad hues

RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE

The excitement in the air was palpable. The preceding days were full of romance and mushiness. Rose day, proposal day and what not. Beauty parlours and related stores laughed all the way to the bank while hotels and resorts waited for the cash registers to ring. The entire world looked rosy and pink, basking in the glow of “love”, as hormones played havoc in youthful bodies and minds.

Quietly, in a small house in the city, a wife was preparing her husband’s bed. The man, weak and frail, tottered towards it, while she quickly rushed to support him. Having helped him to bed, she adjusted his diaper and tucked him in. As she turned the lights off, she sent out a silent prayer, that he should go before her. She would manage to survive without him but he couldn’t, so the prayer.

The father sat by the bed of his young daughter, as she sank lower and lower, felled by disease. He prayed that she goes gently and her suffering would end soon. His life would be full of misery and grief but she would find peace. He was ready for the trade-off.

The old teacher trudged along the path, clutching some books and an umbrella. A few young girls passed by, briefly nodding at her. "Of course, She is the principal’s favourite as she works extra hours and with more dedication. But that’s only because she doesn’t have any family, no husband or kids to care for,” they whispered about her, not realising that she worked with sincerity not because she has no family but due to the fact that she loved her job.

The priest cleaned the prayer hall with devotion. His mind was full of God and he sang the almighty’s praises quietly as he worked. This was his calling, his passion. He didn’t care about religion or rituals but only about Him. His love showed in his work, his dedication and his service. He was getting a salary, no doubt, but he was also getting something that no one could put a price tag on.

The soldier lovingly placed his uniform and medals in the suitcase before proceeding on leave. He was going to see his newborn and was excited. But not as much as he was excited while defending his country’s borders and peace. He loved his family but loved his country more.

Life is meaningful when we love. It might not be a romantic one and could mean anything one cares about. It changes as we grow older, from the love of toys, chocolates to crushes and teenage love to the affection and respect to the married partner. It encompasses our family, neighbours and society. It allows us to accommodate people and their idiosyncrasies. It melts our hearts and makes us wish well to all in the world. “Vasudaiva kutumbakam” could be a slogan for Valentine’s Day.