Cleaning the Attic, I found Grandma's old trunk. She smiled at it before carefully checking through the contents. There was a brown paper envelope, almost at the verge of tearing away, placed neatly among other things. And in it were a stack of yellow papers. Small rectangle ones with fountain pen ink stains on them. She smiled, moving her trembling hands over them. In affection and love. Letters from Grandpa while he was away at work.
She would wait for months to hear from him. Sometimes three, sometimes five.
Grandpa would travel miles from his workplace to the town to post the letters. The red post box was his way of letting her know that she was being remembered and missed. Some of the letters arrived on time. Some were lost in transit.
He then waited patiently for a reply that arrived a month later. Or maybe two. Depending on when Grandma could manage to lure his nephew to the post office by the promise of some sweetmeat or laddoos. In those days, the ladies barely stepped out, let alone post letters. In those days, letters even to husbands were written away from the eyes of the family, in the closed doors and silence of the room. Letters that arrived were carefully hidden between clothes in the cupboard lest someone found them. And if he had written to his parents instead and no letter arrived in her name, in the dark nights she would shed silent tears of disappointment. The next letter would melt her again, though.
Distances were greater. And connectivity is low. But there was a certain beauty in that wait. Undying love in that patience. There was no doubt. No anxiety. No insecurities. They didn't know each other by face or name, even a few days before Marriage, and a few days later, he left her with her new family and went to work. She didn't complain. Neither did she try to persuade him to take her along. She made herself accustomed to the ways of life after marriage instead.
And when he arrived back home for a day | or two, in between his hectic work, they would talk for hours. He would tell her about the world outside. And she, of the family. Young as they were, too eager to know and learn about the world, love didn't need to be worked on. It happened without expectations and limitations. I sighed as I saw her wipe away some happy tears. Death didn't separate lovers. It was just the same distance without the letters. A distance she now waits to be over.
I was startled by a Facebook notification as I sat going through the things in the trunk, as she sat in the balcony staring at the sky, clinging to the brown envelope like it was her life. It was a friend posting a picture of himself with his girlfriend. #couplegoals Now this made me laugh. I have seen couples. I have seen 'love'. 1 have seen them survive, struggle, end or rejuvenate. I have seen modern-day couple issues. Everything from what you wear, to where you go on dates, to vacations hidden from parents, to trust issues, affairs, to long distances and unsatisfying sex made it to the list of modern-day couple problems. Yet they call themselves 'couple goals'.
We are impatient with replies arriving seconds late. We are keeping tabs on partners on live locations and social media. We stalk people to check their credibility.
Once a person is exposed to you naked, stripped of all the fakeness, is it so difficult to accept a person with flaws? Accept their vulnerability? Love them like you promised to do when you were starting to know them? Is that what love has been reduced to? A mystery to be solved before heading ahead to another character and another story?
Baes of today become the worst enemies tomorrow. We unlove as easily as we fall in it. We judge people. By clothes, caste, education and whatnot. We rate people based on likes, followers and pictures. We use filters to make us look better. We use fakeness to impress people. We want everything quick. Money, fame, Love, sex, happiness. But none of us is ready to work on it. None of us has the patience. To work on relationships dedicatedly. To love, commit and trust. To honour people. Respect relationships. None of us is ready to give in or adjust. Egos and self-esteem merge in a thin line we barely see.
And then we talk of 'true' love. Love itself is the truest, purest and rarest of all feelings. It doesn't need any adjectives. It never needed any adjectives. Love was always true. What isn't true is not love. Lust, infatuation, attraction and crushes today get merged with the hard love. Habits of having someone, fear of being alone, make us date people and call the feeling love. It is used easily to woo anyone. Love doesn't happen like that.
And true Love needs no saying.
It needs no validation by the world.
Doesn't matter if you are together, apart, in a relationship or out of it.
Toast to that love, my friend.
The silence and patience make it work. Wait for it before letting your soul choose the wrong ones. Let love enlighten you. Make you a better person. Be patient. You will have your happy ending.
Because Love stays. It is Forever and Eternal. Unlike relationships nowadays.
~ Suranya
