It’s that time of the year again. When love turns tangible. It floats around you in the form of heart shaped balloons. All that glitters in the jewellery advertisements is not gold but love. Red is the ‘in’ colour. From top restaurants to luxury spas, everyone just wants you and your beloved to have a romantic day. Really, that’s all they want. Oh and your wallet besides. Yes, its Valentines’ Day – celebrated by lovebirds and marketers all over the world. After all Shakespeare himself gives his nod saying, "They do not love that do not show their love". Oh well, a complicated emotion like Love needs at least its own day if not a decade dedicated to it.
FB has it right – there’s so much to ‘like’ in life really. Few things can compare with the joy of reading an engrossing book by a much loved author while letting the balmy weather wash over you. As Winter raises its hat in a final farewell, it imbues the air with a mellowness - neither too cold nor too warm. This is the time to warm one’s toes in the sun. To drowse in the daytime and dream in myriad colours. To catch up on good cinema, go for an open air concert or party. It’s time for a much awaited break.
And recently I read about World War I and the Russian revolution, saw a movie about the Gulf war and one fine day I found that an actual revolution was taking place in Tunisia and Egypt. It set me thinking about why human beings thrive on oppression and hatred. Hate is a strong word. To be used sparingly and with caution. If only people could ‘live and let live’ so many lives would be spared, so much pain minimized. Hatred begets hatred. But we never seem to learn unless there is a major upheaval. Maybe hate is genetically programmed into us, like love. Time to evolve.
The next generation will maybe find the way out. Right now they are bunch of adorable babies with wide-eyed curious stares. Many of my friends have had babies this year and I have been bowled over by each of the little munchkins. There is nothing like cuddling a small baby to bring out all one’s protective instincts. As I looked at each one’s face, all chubby cheeks and tendrils of soft hair that emanates a typical ‘baby’ smell (or maybe it’s just Johnson & Johnsons) I wondered what they would grow up to be. I pray that somehow they manage to retain a bit of the innocence they now have even when they move into adulthood. Choose a-little-Innocence over all-out-Cynicism any day.
P.S. The title of this post refers to a game that we used to play as kids.