Incomplete

It has been more than a roller coaster ride these past few days.
Maybe a bit more than what I can handle, but what the heck... if everything had a handle, it wouldn’t be called life – maybe it would be called a bicycle. There are several things which are not too important ( or are too important) to be mentioned here .. so lets just say I climbed a roller coaster at a fun ride kinda place and not dwell on the details.

What makes yesterday so weird in this roller coaster ride is the fact that two of my friends succumbed to love. While one has decided to put up a profile on shaadi.com so that he can contact her, the other spent my night (and his day) talking about “her” and what needs to be done.

Both of them thought that my advice was good enough for them, even if it was a passing remark sort of an advice. To the shaadi.com guy, all I needed to do was give a final push and say “sahi ladki hain bhidu” while to the other, I had to spend a sleepless night upto an insane hour talking to convince him about “doing” something about what he felt (and no, I did not advice any hand-jobs – please place my friends above that :P ). Here I was asking the men to go the for the women they liked irrespective of wheteher it would work out or not, asking them to throw caution to winds and just sail.
Telling the latter that love was important and it wasn’t wrong when it happened to you.
You must listen to me when I try and convince you, I can convince James Bond to take up celibacy. I have extreme powers of persuasion 

This came just hours after an argument I had with a colleague telling him why being single rocked.
Sometimes I cannot fathom myself. At a particularly vulnerable moment, I said something really true to my colleague
that the more I see humanity, the less I want it
The more I feel emotions run up my spine, the farther away I want to be from them
– which shocked him out of his wits and the next moment I managed to show him a flying pig and got him convinced all was not lost yet.
People are usually amazed at my ability to remain blank – the ability to not opine on topics, the ability to not emote the way you ought to (now that just simply stupefies me – ‘ought to emote?!?’, the ability to remain silent during times of inner turbulence.
The issue I think is, that it is not ability per se. It is a disorder. I cannot emote. Even if I do, I cannot show my emotion – as words on a keyboard, maybe – not as a facial expression, not as a change in my voice. More often than not, my voice is flat and devoid of anything at all. I need to artificially infuse life into it.

The more I lead life, the less I want it, the more people want to come near me, the farther away I wish to stay.
The issue would be pretty much solved – if I needed to provide a solution in a closed confine. We live in a society, and society as such places expectations, and expects us to conform. An argument would be to say that there have been people who have swum against the tide, but then they had a reason to. On the other hand, I see none. The fact is, I see no reason to either swim along or against the current, and that raises the hair of society.
The issue would be simple and straightforward, if lack of reason, will and ability were enough to lead a simple life. There is another dimension to it.
And the dimension is incompleteness. Somehow, the sense of inadequacy and incompleteness engulfs one, if one feels that there isnt a person who understands, who puts up with the quirkyness and smiles at the oddities. Utopian concept, but true. The search for the other half, be it the spiritual other half, the emotional other half, or the physical other half, begins early in life. Woe on them who cannot find all the three in one, greater woe on them, who cannot find one at all, and the greatest woe on them who find the one and then are stuck in the quagmire of contemplations (pretty much like my friend above). The confusion reigns supreme when all these three are available in three (or more) different other halves. Then begins the question as to which other half scores over which, then there is a question about love.
I have never understood the concept of love in its totality.
Here are the conclusions I draw about love:
1. Love can never be unconditional, even if you want to give unconditional love, the other forces you to make it depend on conditions
2. Love can never give long lasting happiness – it can only give you misery and hurt and more lonliness (more than what you felt when you hadn’t found the one)
3. One day – love will end. And then that day – everything will end, only you will continue to exist
4. To think that love is successful the other should share your intensity ( or even more) of the emotion you show towards him/her. Else the love has failed. It is rejected.

My question asks me – what is hurt when someone rejects your emotion? Your ego? Your soul? Does someone have so much of control on your very soul that they can rankle it and uproot its happiness by a mere shake of a head or a flick of a wrist? Or is it the “Me”, the Ego that gets hurt and seeks retribution? Why should rejection hurt? This rejection is ever so transient – you fall in love as easily the second time as you did the first. ( need proof? – ask Ms Rai oh sorry – Mrs Rai Bachchan) why does it hurt as much every time then? And then I have a pertinent question which I ask everyone, including myself. Why should my emotion be dependent on the other? When I'm angry, it is not a pre-requisite to me that the person on whom I'm angry has to have an equal and opposite sense of anger towards me. I can be angry at any damn thing or person without any qualms about whether it is being reciprocated. Same with disgust, sorrow and several other emotions. What makes love so peculiar that you WANT a reciprocation and when you get none, you are whipped up in a frenzy and cry buckets of water, spend your quality time watching devdas and searching for a street mongrel to hang out with you?
The closest answer I get to this is “ incomplete” . Every other emotion does not care whether you are complete or not, they are in fact what make up your incompleteness. Love makes you complete – it yearns perfection and culmination. A woman calls herself complete only when she is a mother – what makes her say so? Love

The other conclusions though remain. If love is so transient, if love is so fleeting and elusive, how can it make one complete? How can it make one place oneself in another’s hands so completely that he influences every single moment of ones life? It seems we all run behind mirages. We cover our nude emotions with hypocricsy and thus

The more I see of mankind, the less I want to be a part of it
The more I come in contact with emotions, the farther I want to be from it

But there still is the unanswered question of “incompletion”. There still is a search for the other half, and there still exist those tears that arise out of rejection.