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"What is love?" is not the question that you ask, because there is no single definition for it. Every one of us perceives it differently, and it is different things for each one of us.
“What is love?” is not the question that you ask, because there is no single definition for it. Every one of us perceives it differently, and it is different things for each one of us.
Do I think about him you ask? I don’t. I cannot. Because thinking is a conscious action. Something mindful and knowing. He is innate. He is always there. Somewhere. In my gestures. In my words. In my emotions. In my moods.
Do I love him you ask? I don’t know how to answer this. He entered my life like a whiff of sublime fragrance, making his way into the deep ravines of my heart. He became the balm for my aching soul. He became the wind beneath my weary wings. He became the mirror for me to see myself. I surrendered. I felt. I lived.
His caress wakes me up at the crack of dawn. His gaze melts me as the scarlet rays of the setting sun illuminate my heart. His embrace fills me with hope as I soak in the radiance of the moonlit sky. With him, I have dared to dig the long buried corners within. With him, I have blossomed like a self-propelled flower.
I don’t know if I love him, but I love myself when I am with him. And that I believe might be one and the same thing.
Author’s Note: All of us at some point in our lives have tried to define love. Over the years, I have come to recognize that love cannot be defined. It can only be discovered. This process of discovery is unique for each one of us and takes shape as we evolve through our life experiences. While this literary piece is straight out of my imagination, it is reflective of my own journey of discovering, understanding and perceiving love in its varied manifestations.
A version of this was first published on the author’s Facebook wall.
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Multiple award winning blogger, influencer, author, multi-faceted entrepreneur, creative writing mentor, choreographer, social activist and a wanderer at heart read more...
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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