The Undead Romantic

I am a dreamer, always was, and always will be.

But this isn't about the dreamer. For I was someone else too.

Once upon a time, I was a romantic. I believed in destiny. 

I believed in God. I dreamt of a future, where I had made my parents happy, and my sister proud, by being a graduate; to walk on stage to get my post graduation diploma with the graduation cap on my head....

I believed in dreams. I dreamt of myself standing on stage, receiving an Oscar, or a Booker Prize, or a Nobel Prize for Literature, and address a large audience, all of whom were my fans.

And I believed in love. I dreamt of moments where I would be having fun in my room with my beautiful wife and adorable daughter and son. And oh, how I would have met her... I told myself, I would find love if I find an attractive woman, and if I meet her twice on the same day, then I would ask her out, and a love story would bloom, for coincidences were made by God for you to act upon.

At 13, I thought I was in love. But what I did was harass my classmate for two years. It wasn't love. It was a whim of emotions decided over a coin toss.

At 15, I thought I was in love. And I was, but we were best friends, and we wanted to stay that way, for it was much more beautiful than a romantic entanglement. I am grateful for that friend.

At 16, I had my first love. And she asked me to seek the help of God. And with God I shared my three dreams, and asked Him to help me fulfill them. 

In a year, I lost the love. In another year, my desire of studying my dream course was shattered by my parents, who I diligently obeyed. And in the next four years, my dreams and desires were tarnished within the prisons of education I never wanted in the first place, while what I dreamt of was acquired by countless many.

At 22, I left my parents and home to strike out on my own. But just when I started to get closer to my dream, my parents intervened with bills and loans. I realized I never truly left them.

At 23, I met a girl in a theatre. We shared same interest and craziness. When we got out of the theatre, she asked me for my facebook account. And I, believing in destiny, told her, "If we are meant to see again, we shall see again, and then we shall exchange numbers." I never saw her since.

In the next decade, I struggled and failed. The ones with me flourished. The bills and loans were paid off. But my desire to learn was postponed. My desire to tell stories were put on hold. And my desires of love were shattered. And yet I pursued, and so was called a bumbling fool, a desperate lad, and a failed dreamer.

At 32, I thought I found someone who could love me. But it was short lived. She said it was my fault. And by then I learned to accept all of my failures and downfalls as my faults.

At 33, I found one with whom I connected well. But due to many irregularities, she said we couldn't be together. Desiring her happiness, I forsaked mine.

At 35, I found out that I could no longer pursue my dream of learning in any institute, not unless I pay a hefty fee. I found out undesirable truths about my family. I found out that all my journey, all my pain...everything was for nothing.

Now, I learn through books and videos relentlessly; cannot let the passion dry off just because the world and time says so. And I tell stories through a document in my laptop, for I learned that I just want to tell stories; it was the journey that made me happy and sane, the end results matter less to me now. Strange how two decades broke the child in me and grew in its place a cynic.

I am almost 36 now.

I was in a cafe, where I saw a wonderful lady with an adorable toddler. And I asked myself if that was what I had desired. I shook my head, paid my bill, and rode towards the supermarket to get the elixir that marketed itself as one that could keep sleep at bay.

As I stepped out of the shop, I saw the mother and daughter again. for once, both my heart and mind told me, 'There she is. You have seen her twice. Destiny has acted as you have always desired. Now it is you who has to make a move.'

Instead I walked away. I can no longer love. I no longer desire love. To love is easy. To be loved is difficult. And to be able to accept that love is the most difficult. And one who has reached that point of life, I believe, does not deserve to be in love.

And it's ok. I might be an undead romantic.

But I am still a dreamer, a storyteller.

And that's all that matters.

Everyone deserves a hug

Man is a sensuous being. His eyes are made to see. His nose is made to smell. His ears are made to hear. His tongue is made to taste. And his skin, it is meant for the most amazing feat of them all, to feel.

Some great philosophers have stated many things about feelings, but the one we all know is a simple sentence: SKIN DESERVES TO BE TOUCHED. And it is true. Sometimes everyone desires to hold the hair of the loved ones, to feel the smoothness of the skin over the lips, to feel the hand over the hand….to be lost in the world of wordless emotions. To be able to feel without having to depend on other senses.

But time has flown. And technology has given way to other senses rather than to the skin.  They try to give more emphasis to the eyes, nose, ears or tongue, and give less importance to the skin. And when the skin is ignored, the other senses become dull, and people search for other sources of emancipating their senses. They find solace in drugs when they don’t find friends. They find solace in sex when they don’t find love. They find solace in what they shouldn’t for they find it not in what they have.

Parents have forgotten how much a kiss matters. Wives have forgotten how much a brush of lips matters. Husbands have forgotten how much closeness matters. Friends have forgotten the joys they get from each other. Lovers have forgotten anything beyond the bedroom. When the skin is devoid of feelings, man turns into a beast. He doesn’t turn into an animal, for an animal cares. He turns to a beastly machine that uses humans and adores materials.

Everyone deserves a hug. A hug can destroy voids. A hug can make love blossom. A hug can reassure friendship. A hug can create magic. A hug can lift pains and sorrows. A hug is a medicine, a cure, a drug everyone needs. A hug is a word from the universe, a way of it to say that we all belong to each other and we can ensure that further with a hug.

Man finds himself empty without compassion. He is lost, troubled, confused about himself. He needs an assurance, an assurance from his fellow mates who say “I’m here for you.” He needs the promise of togetherness. He needs love, care, console. He needs compassion. He needs a hug.

Everyone deserves a hug. The wife and husband should hug often. The lovers must hug often. The friends must hug more. The teacher should hug the student. The boss must hug the employee. One needs to hug and be hugged by another. It is an action of love and care, which requires no kiss, no words, no sex, no desire. A hug can evade the illness and evilness in people’s mind. A hug can create solutions to problems, answers to questions. A hug is a nod to love. A hug is the acceptance of one another. A hug is a step closer to the universe that binds you and me.

Everyone deserves a hug. You do. I do. We all do.

Everyone deserves a hug. Now. And later. And tomorrow. Every time and every day.

Who did you hug today?