Love, and all that.

Its been sometime since I've written. A long time, more like. As far as I can remember, this is the first Sunday that I've actually not gone out in the past year. It feels good to be home.

There have been lots of things that have happened between the last time I wrote and now. I've qualified (still haven't gotten a grad degree, though), started work at a proper corporate, gotten bored of work at the proper corporate, and have generally had a topsy turvy year.

Throughout this period there have been conflicting thoughts running in my mind on what love is, or why love really makes the world go round. First things first, why were the Beatles so loved? There have been hundreds of bands, thousands of musicians, and a million playback singers who have composed or sang really good songs over the ages, but why do we remember only a few? Most Beatles fans today were not even alive when they were at their peak in the 60s and 70s. But we still love them as much as our parents or grandparents did. The answer, at least my answer, is really interesting. It's their honesty. The honesty with which they sang, they conducted themselves. They did drugs, and they didnt hide that. John loved another woman even when he was married, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. They weren't liars, weren't pretenders. They never wore clothes they couldn't afford, or had a debt sponsored lifestyle.

Much like my love for the Beatles, any form of love to me is honesty. When the John and Paul had irreconcilable differences, they split up. They didn't pretend to be friends to make money. That would be prostitution.

The Valentines Day week has passed, and my friend told me how so many of her friends got into a relationship on the eve of V-Day. They were 'apparently' so much in love. How do you fall in love because of a  single day? Where does all that love go the remaining 364 days?

I see people getting into relationships with amazing speed, and getting out even faster than that, and I wonder what really love is. Our definition of love itself changes over time. When I was three, I was pretty sure I loved that girl who came out to play whenever I called her. But that wasn't really love, was it? The moment she refused to play cricket, I stopped speaking to her. I was 3. She was 2. Fickle minds.

So is love momentary? Is it the company you crave for, and the feeling you share when your cravings are being satisfied? Is love so material, so, as I said, fickle?

Nope. Sorry to break your bubble, but love is not so simple.

Love could be the feeling you share with your best friend of seven years. When you know you complete each other, even when you dont meet, or text, or call. When you just let go, sit back with the satisfaction that one person is always going to be there for the other. When you trust your future in the hands of fate, and pray.

Because love is uncertain. The funny thing about love is only you can measure your own love. The other person will have absolutely no idea. Love is more like good weather, you miss it only when its gone.

And love is letting go. When you know the other person has had enough. When you know your love could be doing more harm than good. Love is letting go with dignity. Not the eye catching Sanjay Leela Bhansali 'ohmygodimgonnapuke' kind of letting go. It is when you know you're no longer needed, and you walk away into the sunset, assured of the other persons happiness.

To conclude, there were two characters that have always defined love for me. Both passed away earlier this month.

Severus Snape, and his unflinching, you can even call it unrealistic, love. The kind of love that doesn't always end happily. But love is love, no questions asked. When Alan Rickman died, I was broken, not because the world had lost an amazing acting talent, but because I had lost somebody I was always saw as Severus Snape. Whenever there were troubled moments, I'd say 'Always' and move on. Now there would no longer be a face to associate the dialogue with.

Atticus Finch, and his love for mankind in general, and his kids in particular from To Kill a Mockingbird. A book I read when I was 14, this was my transition book from the Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew reading kid to a little more matured reading. Harper Lee's epic was the beginning of a beautiful journey for me. A journey that has still not ended. She taught me that thing aren't as bad as it seems, and to keep hope, for which I'll be ever thankful.

So the next time somebody tells you they are in love, don't ask whom, or how. They are stupid questions to ask.  Ask for how long because that is all that matters.