Cupid's Curse

Love. Love. Love?

What is Love? Can we define love? I wonder what Oxford calls love. Bah, don't have a dictionary around me and oxford seems to be charging a fee for searching through their online dictionary. Anyway, I've lost love. Not "my"love, but love. I don't understand love and don't know love. I thought I knew love, well, it was all fairy tale like, until, obviously, realised that she din't see me in that light, or for that matter din't see me in any light at all. Well, I used to believe in true love till about that point, well, the point where I realised about the way she thinks of  me. Anyway, thats enough about me. Lets just talk on the general point of love. 

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/love

There's a definition for a love through that link. Going by the technical definition, love isn't that magical feeling or whatever else its hyped to be. Damn. I've wanted that. Real bad. I'm going to be highly incoherent as I'm just putting down whatever is going through my head so bear with me. This, well, to an imaginary audience, as uptil this point, there's not been a single person who has read this blog. 

Anyway, coming back to love. The question I really want to ask is, how do you know when your in love? The hollywood answer would be "you just know", but then we all know that's just something made up by some guy with a long beard and a terrible childhood. Well, thats just me generalising, so if any of you scriptwriters are reading this, don't take it personal. Or, the scriptwriters themselves know what bullcrap they are writing, but continue writing it simply because they know the audience loves it. Well, let me change that "loves" to "likes". I'm going to stop using love in such a liberal manner. Love is used way too liberally for my liking. There's too much "love" being said. I "love" you, I "love" pizza, I "love" Metallica. Will I take my life for pizza? Am I ready to sacrifice myself for Metallica?Bah, "love" is used way too liberally. Back to what I was talking about, the audience, the general public, well not all of them, most of them, including me for a while, and maybe still, wants to believe in that magical feeling called love. Gah, love's got me all confused. 

So, what is love? No sir don't know the answer. The bible has an answer:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13:1-13)

There it is. Umm...Well, it sounds a bit too perfect. A bit too hollywoody. If love was like this, I wish I was in love. Do we, love, consciously. Is love, a feeling ? An emotion? Or is it a verb?

Is it by choice? Or by default. I wonder if Bacon has written about love. Maybe something titled Of Love? Well, if the bible definition of love, is what love really is; and I'm not a very relegious person, just remembered there was something in the bible like this about love, so googled and found it; then, I'm not really sure I've ever loved anyone. Ha, I'm probably on a "Highway To Hell" then, if there is hell, well, I'll reserve that topic for another time. So, there you go, I've never loved anyone. Never! Now, I'm not a hate mongering sob, and I'm pretty sure I don't sound like one, but I'm just trying to understand love here. 

Ha, Francis Bacon has written an essay called "Of Love". Google is the 8th wonder of the world. It's available at http://classiclit.about.com/library/bl-etexts/fbacon/bl-fbacon-lov.htm. 

Finally. Love looked at objectively. Love, as a term. As a weakness. But does Bacon refer to what we term "love"or is it a definition of love? It's definitely not a definition of love. It's probably just an observation of the effect of love in man. It also covers what one could call "superficial love". An extremity of "like" due to beauty, intelligence or whatever else one appreciates. 

So, I'm back to square one. At the beginning of this post, I believed, that at some point, during my rambling, if I found a meaning, had an epiphany, I would have made use of the time I spent. I haven't achieved anything, I have probably wasted my time. But I know now, that whatever I do, how much ever I try thinking, I will not be able to find a satsifactory definition of love. Or what I believe is love. If love, at the end of it all, is just a word, a term created to lure men, I would feel terribly cheated. Cheated off my time, a moment of my life and off hope. If any of you, reading this, if anyone ever does read this that is, has found the answer, the meaning, please do inform me. I'd be ever in your debt.

And then there were two...

The second post. Finally. As I said earlier, one post at a time. Or was that one blog at a time? Oops. I meant one post at a time. Damn. 

So here I am, on my bed again. It's lunch break, have an hour before I go for Math class. Sneaked a a late breakfast thanks to a Chem Laboratory hour being cancelled for reasons plainly above me. 

Ah, let me tell you a bit about myself. I'm a undergrad student, freshman year,  studying in a, well,  above average government funded college in Surathkal, Karnataka, India. I've lived in Dubai, United Arab Emirates for a period of 11 years, former to which I was in Kerala, India, where I am originally from. Oh, and I'm 18 years old. Yes, yes, just broke the barrier a month ago, hoping that it wouldnt be over rated. My 18th wasn't something one would expect of a 18th, but then again, being in college for 15 days, my expectations weren't that high. Friends I had just met, bought me a cake at midnight accompanied by gpl(my hindi isn't that good, literal translation would be stick on your ass). Had dinner in a restaurant in one of the fanciest or most probably the fanciest hotel in Mangalore. Topped it off with a visit to a bar. Had a sip of vodka, anything more there would've burnt a hole through my wallet. When we left it was about 10:30 and we had missed the last bus back to college. This left us the option of taking an auto rickshaw back to the hostel or spending the night in Mangalore. One of our friends claimed he had a house around the corner, however he did not have the keys to the house. After jumping the gate, we spent the night on his patio, while it rained all around us. 

So ther you go, you know how my 18th went. Well, thats a lot more than I know of you, so, if you remember what you did on your 18th, feel free to leave it as a comment. 

P.S. Ah, you might be wondering where the "average intellectual" part fits in. I'm not sure. Not sure at all. Hopefully, I'll start writing up those random thoughts that pop up in my head. If I'm on my bed at that point that is.

In The Beginning

In the beginning, there was a boy. A boy sitting in his hostel room. A boy sitting on his bed, to be precise, for this was a boy who liked to be precise. Others in his room were either on a One Tree Hill Marathon, playing a game of cricket on the computer or watching Full Metal Alchemist. But this boy, this boy was different. This boy decided to start a blog.

A blog?!?!? asked his inner boy.

Yes, a blog. I think its absolutely fashionable to start a blog he replied.

But you've done that a zillion times before said his inner boy

A zillion?!?!

Fine. Take that stuck up precise **** of yours and start another blog. I'm not letting you take any of my brilliant ideas this time. You end up putting it in words that an illiterate infant would be ashamed of.

Your ideas. YOUR IDEAS?!?! Who on earth are you ? 

Umm...umm...me? Moi? Ahem....well....well...your the average " intellectual ". Go figure.

And the boy never figured, so he stopped arguing with the inner boy and went about creating his blog. His, well, 3rd blog. And he hopes, dreams, that he , one day , will have that blog, the blog with entries dating back to when George W. Bush was President and entries as new as the live coverage of the end of the world. And with that hope, that dream, the boy starts. Goodnight, for now. Hope to blog again. One blog at a time I guess.