A little letter called Love

The greatest controversy that surrounds humankind is love. The term is often misunderstood when seen through the lens of expectation and possession. The many shades of love like  affection or kindness are often separated from it by being affiliated to the manmade concepts of family, friendships and romance. It subconsciously becomes a mean to legitimize possession and control. Whenever you see a flower you love, you pluck it, immortalizing it in your diary, or at least that’s what you think you do. This highlights the tendency to possess the things you love, refusing any other person to love the flower that you fancy. However in this small reference you see how flawed this mindset is. Love should be a medium of growth, a freedom to be appreciated by many. Rejoicing the memories of the beloved and not caging them in the name of love.

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Like any other perspective, mine is personal and flawed. It took me many attempts over a long period of time to harbor this definition of love that guides my actions today. Love lies in small deeds and not big gestures. Love lies in caressing a stray, even if its only for a few hours, feeding it and loving it with all your heart to leave it where you found it. Love demands the act of giving without an expectation of any gains. That’s why its so difficult for one to truly love something. The human mind is accustomed to barter ever since civilization was created. Yet in the span of a few hours that you bestow affection upon that stray, your heart is filled with this unexplainable calmness, an upsurge of affection that is yet unspoken of. The tinge of sadness that acquaints your heart as you leave it back on that street to its mother, is the defining moment of love. For you wish it the best, you only cage it in your memories.  Thus, to offer a short repose to a vexed heart, while you experience solace yourself. This is the act of love for me.

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