Are you truly in love?

On a snowy Monday morning, I woke up to a dozen messages from a friend. I looked out, and felt I am watching an old movie – everything was white, with shades of black here and there. The heater was at its highest, the blanket wrapped around me, but I shivered in cold. The phone told me it was the coldest that winter.

I am taking a sabbatical for three months.”

I was shocked. Why? What happened to him all of a sudden?

I went through the messages. They read, how he missed his girlfriend, and that he wanted to give it a chance despite the distance, and that he was going away to be with her, and that he would be back not before three months – either with the girl of his dreams or alone.

I dialed his number.

When I got off the phone an hour later, love was a paradox for me.

He told me everything. He told me how they decided to call it off when she moved to a different continent. He told me how he missed her every waking minute. He told me how it’s been over two months, but he still felt asphyxiated without her.

And then he told me, last night, he booked his ticket. And that he won’t just sit and accept life, rather stand up and fight. In the end, I wished him luck. But I was perplexed. What is he?

Romantic? Or foolish?

I remembered the summer I had my heart broken. And then the next winter. And then the autumn two years later. I remembered all my heartbreaks.

Years have gone by, but I remember every detail. I remember the days, and I remember the moments – the magical moments I had with each of them. I remember how every time I heard no sound, or even glimpsed other people, but was lost with them, and in them. Each time, I was in love.

But then, I walked away. The pretexts were never the same, but the idea was always the same. Every time I wanted to find solace. I wanted to heal. But my reverie ended each time. And I walked away. I walked away as I felt my tranquillity lies in walking away, alone.

But then, why do I wish I did, what my friend did? Isn’t that idiotic? Or, is it, the bravest thing to do?

I am writing this for me. Not to preach to anyone. But for me. For me to fathom. For me to decipher the paradox. And to remember. To remember in the days of lost hope.

It is okay to fall. It is okay to be on your knees. It is okay to get your heart broken.


Because you have only one life. And to experience the magic of love in that one life – that’s worth it. That’s worth everything.

Fall down. But jump to your feet again. Be on your knees. But have the vigor to fight. Fight, and don’t walk away. Walk away only when you know you defied fate. When you know you battled the demons of life and didn’t back away from love.

It is your life, and it is okay to lie down. Hit pause for a while. And then, when and only when, you have the courage, be in love. Courage – to risk it all. Courage – to have your heart open, again. Courage – to be lost with someone, and in someone.

How will you have the courage? Ask yourself:

Are you truly in love?



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