At Bhowali

This weekend was amazingly wonderful. I had gone to Bhowali (which is about 15 minutes off Nainital) and I cannot begin to explain the relief I experienced at being away from the heat of Delhi as well as the daily issues of my life. It was almost like having an alter identity; one that is not plagued with any of the nagging doubts or problems that my other existence is. I remember sitting in the porch with a cup of hot coffee, wondering whether I should go back at all or not. After all, why couldn’t I live in the hills for a while, earning my livelihood there? Then, if I felt the need to earn more, meet the people I had left behind or for any other reason, return, I easily could. Why is it so difficult for any of us to leave the known, which is essentially our comfort zone and put out roots elsewhere? We all admire the people who can just pack up and take off, yet we hesitate to be those people.

I am sitting on that same porch, this time with a glass of litchi squash. I can hear music from the house. “Oh my love, my darling, I hunger for your touch….” Unchained Melody. I enjoy the song; it holds many special memories for me. Some beautiful, some painful. The song ends, and I prepare to think. But that is not to be. “Oh Susanna, don’t you cry for me, I’ve come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee.” Though that is another song I quite like, I’m unable to concentrate on it. A fleeting thought comes and goes: Why are most of the songs/poems ever composed on the subject of love? What is so great about love? Why don’t we write more about happiness, spirituality, survival of the great and spirited? And if we do have to pay so much importance to love, then why it does it have to be the love between a man and woman? Why don’t we write and sing more about the love between friends, between siblings, between children and their parents? What is it about non-platonic love that has been and will be fascinating generation upon generation? My litchi squash is almost over, and I prepare to go back inside the house, when suddenly the answer strikes me. The reason for this seemingly strange fascination is the fact that non-platonic love, the way we see it and want it, is the most coveted yet most rare form of love. And the reason for this is that we don’t recognize true love when we have it, and are always hankering after the kind of love that we perceive to be true. None of the famous love songs or poems are, in fact a correct depiction of true love, and a desire for just that kind of love is our downfall. Another reason for this fascination is the unfathomable fact that something which brings us so much joy at one time can bring us a sorrow that is tenfold at another time. Which brings me to the question I’ve been trying to but haven’t been able to answer since the past year and a half: Is it worth it??