I dont know much about love. I have fallen in love. But I cannot explain the intricacies of it. If I had been a scientist, I would have attempted to explain it as the hormones trying to play havoc with lives. If I had been a self-torturing, moody, mysterious painter with artistic chagrin, I would have painted numerous paintings on the subject. Since I am neither, I attempt to give meaning to a sensation that many worthier souls than me have tried to capture, in words.
My tryst with love began when I was eight. I felt unusually attracted to a girl in my class who sat next to me in my class. She was very nice to me and she had a beautiful pink bow on her hair which made her look all the more pretty. Now I dont remember her face exactly, but I remember the happiness that I felt whenever I was with her. I can look back and say that I have had several encounters with this self same form of happiness in varying degrees of intensity, over the 17 years I have hence spent.
I have not yet attempted to define love and for good reason. It is undefinable. Whenever my math teacher explained the concept of infinity, I had my own equation to fit it. Infinity = Love. So, at a very young age itself I had realised that love can define other things but nothing can define love.
People say that it is better to have loved and lost than never loved at all. I believe that it is better to have loved and lost than to have loved and won. All the love stories that we see in movies, read about in books, depict the hero and heroine fulfilling their love and living happily ever after. Is there 'happily ever after'? This brings me to my basic premise. Love is most beautiful when it is lost. We miss things the most when we can never have them. So I believe that unrequitted, unfulfilled love is the most potent form of love. Afterall, what is love, without heart-wrenching, emotional trauma?