Unrequited love...

I can feel I am alive. I can feel the wind that is flowing through my hair and the crackle of dry leaves when I tread on them. I can feel this moment now; but rarely do I; rarely am I conscious that I am breathing, or that my heart is beating. Rest of the time, this evanescent consciousness of being alive is forgotten and I just flow with the stream of life; just follow where it takes me, lost in the labyrinthine paths of the human-created-world…oblivious of life or death.
But truly, these little interludes in the continuous flow of life are my true respites. And coincidently, they usually occur when I am around her, whom I love. “Love?” they laugh at me hysterically. “There’s a liver in your body that secretes chemicals and that’s why you love”, they say. And then they look at my haggard face and try to suppress their smiles.
Chemicals? If it’s really because of the chemicals, then I guess they have got the names wrong. I mean - ‘Chemicals’ - the word itself is so insensible and repulsive, how can it be the explanation for something as beautiful as love; unless they are talking about lust. Trust me; I have known love for 30 years, since the time I played hide-and-seek with her. I was happy in love, but more importantly I have cried; and then I understood that I had this enormous power to change the world for her, to die and to kill for that one soul.
Chemicals, they still say.
I was arrested from my college, in front of thousands of students. But it won’t affect me much coz I already don’t have a lot of friends; infact any friend. I don’t know if it’s because of my horrendous face marked with black spots or coz I behave differently. One of my teachers said it is because everyone knows that I am a psycho obsessed with her even though she detests me. The thing is I respected this teacher so I didn’t laugh on his face, but I do on his back, coz he is married and doesn’t know the difference between obsession and love.
“Have you had drugs? Alcohol?” They ask me.
“Hell no, officers” I say confidently.
And again they smile at me, surely thinking that I am living in a world of my own. Oh no, they think I am a total lunatic; that’s why they have arrested me for kidnapping her. Charges of murder are yet to be proved.
“Drugs can make you laugh and cry at the same time, just like love, or lust as in your case. You see, chemicals!” these policemen say.
Now I want to explain to them the difference between the two seemingly identical feelings, but I don’t think I will be good enough for these two fat snobs. Also, I have already decided what I am going to die for…so it does not really matter either. But I will explain it to you; coz then I would have done the right thing.
I have been around her since childhood, like a ghost, you can say. I know the texture of the maroon- colored ribbon she wears on a Friday (although I have never touched it) or the delicate precise way in which she puts the clothes out in the open; anyway it would be eternity if I go on talking about her. It’s just that I happen to know her better than herself. But since childhood, I have never wanted to talk to her coz she never wanted me to. But one day in class 5th when she complained my mom that I was scaring her by just looking at her, I stopped that too (although I continued stealing sneak peeks) and I wasn’t sad. In class 9th, she had a boyfriend whom she kissed and roamed around with all the time. But you know what, I did not feel jealous. It was OK if I did not get to see her as long as she was happy. I did not miss her or wanted to see her desperately. And still the love for grew in me.
But they talk of chemicals, and to be precise - endorphins. Yeah, the chemicals that create the obsession, or lust which makes one want to be with him/her or feel jealous for them. But I just want to tell them that you are just like most people, who live their whole lives without finding true love; they marry and live forever with the ones they lust for, and they make it work, but it takes work. On the other hand, some are lucky enough to find the person whom they can love, and get it in return, without lust; they can live happily with little work, forever. Love grows, lust obsesses.
When she was 21, she knew she was wrong about that boy who regularly misbehaved with her and that too with all the pleasure. How could I not help her then? And these officers laugh at me…no…I laugh at them for what they will never feel how I do. I pity them but I have sympathy for them.
Yesterday, I touched her hands in 26 years when I saw her off at the railway station. She was fleeing from him and from her family to make a career in modeling. And she asked me for help. You see now? True love is never unrequited. It just takes time to flourish like a flower. She is following her heart and is happy; am I not? She said that she wanted to disappear from everything and for that, she needed me to accept the criminal charges of her kidnapping. After a few years, she would free me of all this.
Despite everything I was a little hurt when she said she would free me, as if I had cared for myself for all these years. I am already free coz I have chosen what I will die for. For love indeed, and I think it’s worth it. Now you must be thinking what a terrific crackpot I am, the epitome of a loser in love. But then, you are who you are, you think and do what you think and do. But in any case, it’s all about death. This is the thing. This is everything. Just a question of what is it you are going to die for, before ofcourse you die naturally, like a pig. And don’t think you won’t die. Just decide…..what will it be for? I will, for my 30-year old love that’s still growing…