Valentine’s Day, that too in a colorful country like India is a kaleidoscopic tube which holds a multitude of emotions in store for rotations of thoughts and attitudes.
As the Valentine’s week approaches, the still curious lovebirds will descend into a frenzy: of formulating new ideas for surprising their better halves, of devising ways to show that they mean the world to them, that their heart is just a pole of a magnet which theoretically cannot exist alone. It is a special day for them; they don’t feel forlorn anymore, they have found the key to happiness and entirety: howsoever ephemeral and beyond control. The seasoned lovers are mildly excited for the day, and reminisce the old memories along with a mischievous yearning to somehow rekindle the passion they felt for each other in the initial years (or initial months). They now know that a day dedicated in a year for renewing their connection with that special someone is imperative given that there’s hardly enough time to rekindle their love and rejoice everyday. The fabled couple fight desperately (hopefully not with each other), to not let their love for each other degenerate into another task in a checklist amidst a barrage of to-dos for survival.
For the opportunists aka Romeos, it is a perfect opportunity to launch a pack of unguided missiles towards the fairer sex with a heart-felt long-held proposal as the payload in an attempt to synchronise hearts with unbridled love, with little or no fear of retribution. They have mastered the art of sugar-coating triteness in a coat of sycophancy/humor/desperation, or a combination thereof.
The conspiracy theorists and sceptics will have you believe that this whole affair is a propaganda by the marketers to create an artificial demand leveraging the effects of peer-pressure and the herd mentality at its core. When you are expected to dutifully observe the Valentine’s week with all those teddies and roses and chocolates and what not, you become a disillusioned-cum-bankrupt theorist yourself, and secretly desire joining the Valentine-Haters-Singles-Best guild.
If you are single, your case can be either one: of a single-by-choice or single-by-circumstances. Your primordial reaction then strongly depends on the group you belong to, the range of emotions varying in a spectrum so wide and far— it can put the diagrammatic representation of the electromagnetic spectrum to shame. On one end, you can label all those lovey-dovey junta as emotional black-holes and go on to play PS or watch movies all day and giggle that your bank-balance is not dented one bit, and on the other end you can be a pussy and contemplate suicide and go around masturbating mentally asking people as to why life is not fair.
And now, we come to a case which is quite special to our country (well, not to only our country in the strictest sense). We have a multitude of pseudo-armies which are firmly convinced that they have a birthright to meddle in private affairs and protect the cultural heritage of India, even if it involves breaking a few bones or fuck peace-in-general. I simply don’t know where the heck they are when a girl is molested publically or a young brat is beating someone up in a road rage.
And to think of it, an average guy or a girl may or may not relate to any of the above sects. Love is not a blood group that is categorised or put under neat labels. A son may take his parents out to a movie or a granddaughter can gift his grandpa a musical collection of his favorite songs. Heck, you may express love to a friend by giving him/her a gift coupon or throwing a generous beer party (I hope it doesn’t intrude into the territory of Friendship day or something). Love abounds. It does not care. The stupid cupid can go fuck himself.
Posted by: Rohit Gupta