A Boy-Girl Story

Boy meets Girl. Girl meets Boy. They discover a mutual fascination for one another. All cynics and some geriatrics call it a "complete waste of time". Scientists call it "pheromones in action". Vampires call it "the ZING". By what ever definition it goes, it is a phenomenon that is only experienced wholly by the two. The rest of us view it in parts, sullied by perception, and are not privy to the magic. In other words, it's none of our business. If only the world worked that way though. We all feel entitled to set rules on how others ought to live, or at least enforce those rules that were once unfairly forced on us. Like lemmings, we throw ourselves off the cliff of reason, instead of coming to a screeching halt at the edge and asking ourselves if any of it makes sense.

Boy and Girl enjoyed their college years together tremendously. Any one who watched them could not help but feel they were meant for each other. Even in their volatility they were well suited, because only true love could cool that fire, and like iron rods in a furnace they'd meld back into oneness. He loved her deeply, and it always showed. She loved him even more, but you'd never know. To legalize that union between God and State, they wanted to tell their families - because God forbid you forgo tradition. The family's blessings are key to marriage. In the telling, drama aplenty ensued. Far be it from ME, of all people, to pass judgment. Girl went abroad to her parents for two years just to be able to convince them that she meant business, without alienating them of course. Boy had his own circus act at home to achieve the same. Cruel and hurtful things were said. Time was wasted. The geographical distance only added to the multiple tests this beautiful relationship had to endure. After all the pain and struggle just to be together, the Big Day arrived on a hot Kerala morning in July, where relatives whispered to one another, "We'll see how long this lasts." Some how, for a couple to prove to the world that their love was true, they had to walk thorough a minefield of emotional blackmail and harassment. No one cares to see that it's hard enough for a generic XX and XY chromosomal being to even commit to each other for life, but no, let's make them walk through the fires of hell. Despite all that drama, endure they did. If you ever want two lovers to cling even more to one another, just try to get them to part. Some of the delicate threads of love that held them together had worn away, but the threads of loyalty and commitment had formed new villi-like connections in its place. A new kind of love grew in its place (for we all know there are many MANY different kinds). This love had now decided that no one was going to dictate how they lived their lives.

The stress of the wedding had taken its toll but Boy and Girl now lived with the peace that no one could tear them apart. Thus far, one would think this was a story set in the 16th century, but sadly no. This was the dawn of the 21st century, an era where Indian youth loved their families enough to want them to be a part of their lives, whilst having the freedom to choose who and when they marry. Sadly, it's a luxury very few experience. Like all marriages, they faced the many pitfalls that come with starting a life together: finding a decent job, making enough money to live the life they were used to living, making family members happy at the cost of their own happiness. People are quick to ask, "But if you KNEW this would make your family unhappy, why did you do it?" Falling in love is not a choice, a conscious decision you make. You fall in love, and you only get to choose whether or not you want to give that up. You consciously decide to cut them out of your life, or let your self be drawn in further. People have a perception that indulging in the relationship longer makes it harder to get over. The truth is that in order to "nip it in the bud" you need some reasonable validation that it will not work. When you've found your best friend, the one you want to spend the rest of your life with, it's hard to let them go on the basis of differing religions and cultures. Those are minor aspects we think can be worked out, but they often end up being used as the main weapon to sow even more division. If religion, language and culture were the defining criteria for love, it would be those same criteria that drew us to them, but we have plenty of examples that show otherwise. No one knows what laws of attraction draw us to another human being. No one understands why we choose the One over the many hundreds that come our way. We merely throw words at the feeling to make our understanding better.

Boy and Girl were gifted with a son on a New Year's Day. By now they had moved countries, and one had to give up a career so the other could have one. The circumstances were such. Having come from wealthy families the both of them, the struggle to live a somewhat decent life by those wealthy standards took a toll. So far, their story is still not so different from millions of young couples around the world - ours included. They were happy despite everything. The child gave them hope. They lived cocooned in that state of bliss, occasionally interrupted by family who were finally taking the effort to make amends and move forward. Life was wonderful. They recently took a lovely holiday with friends to a cozy retreat in a tea estate. Surrounded by the forest rain and mist, their laughter was captured in swift electronic clicks, their love added that glow that sepia tones can only hope for in Instagram. When they returned home they only knew that they were happy, and that there was always a new day. Two days later, Boy complained of chest pains and nausea. Girl rushed him to the hospital. By the time they could ascertain what had happened, he had collapsed. The doctor said it was cardiac arrest - he was only 35 years old.

The story stands at this point and it wasn't mine to write it. I was a witness to their love and it's my heart that is broken. When I first met them I wasn't a snivelling pre-teen, nor was I just out of high school. If you must know, I was doing my post-grad then. At what point am I supposed to be able to recognize true love? There are those who know who they love when they're just ten years old, and there are those who in their 90s are still incapable of loving just one. Girl is a very dear friend of mine, and was my college roommate for 2.5 years. She watched as I met and fell in love with my husband. We roamed the city together on our bikes, stayed up late into the night and created many wonderful memories together. Now my heart aches with every memory of them. I can't stop looking at their wedding pictures on Facebook. Her voice on the phone sounded distant and lost, like a ship without its anchor. This is how it will be for a while. This emptiness, this unknown. Everyone wants to call her - no one knows what to say. We're all so young. We're not ready to accept the loss of one for whom life had only just begun. He was a husband, father, son and brother. To me, he was a good friend's true love. There are hundreds of stats that should teach us to not take life for granted, but he's not just a statistic. I witnessed a crucial part his life. He lived. He loved. He fought to keep that love and he won. He lives on in his son. If we can achieve half as much, our time here was not wasted.

Girl, you watch that clock as its handle ticks each day,

Your son awaits your loving arms, his time, it slips away.

Mourn your love, grieve him, lament at your fate,

Stomp, yell, scream at the injustice.

Allow your legs to weaken, your voice to go hoarse,

Cry away to exhaustion, it's okay,

You're caught up in the fray.

Throw things if you must - watch it shatter like your heart,

Then pick up the little pieces, little man needs you that much.

We're here when you need us. Ready we'll always be.

Like soldiers we await your call. Call us will you, please?

We cannot ever replace him, we wouldn't even try,

Our lives are not so busy, although we couldn't say goodbye.

Cry for him, miss him dear, we know you'll never stop,

But please remember to live again, like those memories live on top.

I love you da. Please remain strong. Not for your son. Not for your parents. And not for your true love. Be strong for YOU, because that's what you both fought for - to be able to live and love on your own terms. In my memory, his light shines bright because of how much he loved you. I will never forget him... :'(