Love - Not a definition

Prashantee, a dear friend and whom I lovingly call "Boju" which means "Grandmother" in Nepali, helped me come up with this post. Indirectly.

We've been friends for a long time now, Boju and I. We both share a passion for writing, and are pretty close to each other. We've shared our heartaches with each other, and have found warmth in our friendship. She calls me "Nati", which means "Grandson" in Nepali.

She asked me a question about two weeks ago.

"Nati, can you define love?", she asked.

I said I'll try.

"You can take as much time as you want", she said, "but do give me an answer when you get it. Trust me this will help you know exactly what you want from a relationship".

That was the promise she gave with her question.

I thought about the question for a few days. Then as it happens with things, the question found a place in the back of my head from where it was not to be dislodged. Until today.

Today I received my ultra zoom camera back from Rajiv, my friend Harish's younger brother. I came home, and started taking pictures of subjects I had been thinking of for a month. I chanced to take some shots of a wooden figurine in my house. The figurine is about 8 inches tall, and shows an African tribal family, as you can see in the photograph. As an amateur photographer, I tried various lights, including candle light, took photographs in many angles, in many positions. Finally satisfied with my day's clicking, I sat down on my laptop for some post processing.

It was then that I actually noticed the figurine properly for the first time ever. It's strange but I don't know since when I have that figurine with me, or who got it. I picked it up because it was an interesting subject to take pictures of. When I sat down for post processing, it was then that I noticed the serene look on the figures. The father, the mother, the child - the family.

In the figurine, the father has very tenderly, beautifully and lovingly held his beautiful wife and his little child in his arms. The mother, with her eyes closed, leans her head slightly on the father's chest, feeling the warmth of his tender embrace, and as she does this she has the baby lovingly close to her bosom. The child, again with eyes shut, laps up the shower of affection and love from his parents. The figurine is bliss and content personified.

I was so taken aback, and I was so lost when I discovered all this. It made my heart yearn, and I felt a warm rush of blood travelling through my body. This, I thought, was what love was. This was the answer to Boju's question. I figured love could have no definition, it is but a feeling that makes you warm, that makes you content.

The African tribals in the figurine show no signs of the rat race of which we are a part of - for daily survival, for work, for better pay packages, for luxury. They were content with each other, and that, to me, was love.

I closed my eyes, filling myself with the warm, fuzzy feeling that was kind of heady. I had found the answer to Boju's question, and like she promised, an answer to myself about a question I had never asked myself.

(Prashantee is an ardent blogger and blogs at http://maiiya.deviantart.com/)