A 13-year-old writes to me, “I have a boyfriend, but I don’t know if I am in love with him. Can you tell me if there is true love in this world, and how to find it?” Another 15-year-old writes saying — “When I was 13, a boy proposed to me. Thinking it would be fun to have a boyfriend I accepted. But I knew it wasn’t really love. Again when I was
14, another boy asked me out and I accepted but this time I knew it was love and I am still in a relationship with him. But whenever I see any handsome boy I fall in love with him too but I know it’s not real love. Can you tell when a person feels really in love? Please don’t write my name.”
Good heavens child, what exactly do you mean when you say “he proposed and I accepted”? I hope you are not having sex at the young ages of 13 and 15. If you are, it’s time you put a stop to it, at least till you are eighteen. I don’t want to play spoilsport to your impulses, but all you teenage girls need to heed this — don’t jump into a physical relationship just because you feel a rush of energy inside. That giddy feeling is not love. It’s your hormones gushing around, bending your mind and warping your instincts. True, your body is probably sending you a signal to tear off your clothes and jump into the bed with a boy, but your mind should prevent you from doing it. You are simply not ready for it and it’s bloody risky and dangerous. While I am not going to spell it out for you, ask around, discuss with someone you trust, someone older, like your mother — and you’ll know why.
Now on to the question of true love. God, what a question! Is there true love in this world? If yes, how do you find it? The answer in one word is — yes. There is true love and you see it everywhere everyday but you probably don’t notice it because you aren’t looking for it.
The truest love in this world is the relationship of your life with your body. We tend to take this for granted. But spare a
moment to think about it.
For all the years, since the moment of your conception, your life-force from within clung fiercely to your body. Imagine an invisible, unknowable entity, shaping a human being from material things, breathing its own life into it and ensuring that it is preserved and sustained for decades.
Spare a minute each day to think about this and I assure you that it will be a minute well spent for it will erase 90 per cent of your problems in one silent flourish. Once you acknowledge and salute this truest form of love that was the reason for your very existence, it will become the great stabilising force that will guide you to do the right thing, feel the right feeling and find the right person in your life.
The second truest love in this world is the love of a mother for a child. The maternal instinct is the purest, most protective form of love between two human beings on this planet. But it’s a largely one-sided love. The mother loves the child far more intensely but the child does not reciprocate in the same vein because it tends to take this very love for granted. Close at the heels is a father’s love. This is a wandering, dynamic, random love, but is pure and powerful nevertheless. Men generally see themselves as providers, and providers have their share of deep worries, which might make them look unfriendly at times. A father cares for a child in different ways, and even though he might not be as expressive or explicit, he
carries the emotion in his heart always.
Next in line, lagging behind, is the love between a man and woman. Not physical love, but an emotional bond of trust, mutual respect and shared responsibility. This isn’t the love we see in movies, where the boy smiles, the girl smiles, they say “I love you” and a song breaks out. It’s the love that will endure long after the adrenalin has passed, the hormones have run out and after time has faded the physical beauty. This is the love that comes from deep within and that which will last for a lifetime.
It’s a silent serene emotion, where no one feels the need to shout and jump, where the shared river of emotion flows quietly, but surely, with barely a murmur.
I still haven’t told you what you want to hear. You’ll have to bear with me. My column has run out of space. See you next week.
The writer is a film director