In Love

"Come, Philander, let us be a marching, Every one his true love a searching..."

                                                                   -Louisa May Alcott
An Old Fashioned Girl

A friend of mine is walking around dreamy-eyed. Yes, it’s the usual diagnosis. He’s is in love. Literally drowning in it. Well, almost. Considering the minor details such as he does not know whether the lady in question is even aware of his existence or not. And the fact that given his current state in the affairs (he blushes violently at the mention of her name), he will probably need a few shots from the bottle just to have enough courage to say hi to her.

Being “responsible” friends, we gave him a verbal douche bath. To bring him back to earth, we said. And to remind him of those small, afore mentioned details. I liked the way he took our words with infantile meekness, turned around, and went on mooning over “his girl” with undampened ardour. We gave up after 30 minutes of hearing him praise her. Actually, it was when she walked past our group lounging on the stairs, that we knew that we had lost the battle.

Looking at the beatific expression that that suffused his face suddenly made me realise a very hard fact. I miss being in love. I miss the heady feeling that comes with it. The automatic gut-wrench when the object of your admiration is near. My last encounter with this aspect of human emotions had not really been a great one. We had ended with a lot less love than what we had started out with and from then I had been on a self-imposed sabbatical from the pink-heart-shaped stuff. That is why perhaps it took me by surprise. The fact that I actually miss it, that is. The plans, the dreams (and the merciless ribbing, yes, that too!). The intricate designs and last minute change of routes just so you can catch a glimpse or have a word. I miss the utter silliness of it. I miss going around with a stupid grin on my face, as if the entire sunshine of existence is on my shoulders.  But most of all, I think I miss the fact that it takes you out of yourself into some other plane that people in love (like my friend right now) seem to exist in. The wonderful way it beautifies everything around you. The warm fuzzy feeling that seems to tell you, that everything’s all right with the world.

My friend is suddenly finding the April skies bluer than usual. For his sake, I hope that they don’t turn grey for a long, long time to come. For mine, I am kind of hoping my turn comes again, soon. Blue skies and pretty flowers or not, I just want to get back to the times when the world seems to revolve around a single person. And as of now, I must go and see to a hapless Romeo who wants to know how to ask a girl for her number.

(Oh, one more thing, when she passed us on the stairs, she waved, which solved the million dollar question on whether she knew that he existed or not.)

Stay in love, people, nothing beats it. In the meantime, stay happy. See you again!