Paradox of Love

Heres a Though Experiment:

You are hopelessly in love with a woman whos in love with your clone, an exact copy of you. You are also a very empathetic person - it is one of your biggest weakness. 

What  would you want ?

Would you want the woman to leave her man and fall in love with you instead? First, you'll feel the pain your clone feels. Second, you can imagine history being repeated, exactly. How would you ever trust that woman?

In case she doesnt leave her man, then you'll be forever lovelorn.

You also know that you would keep your woman forvever happy => your clone would keep your women forever happy. So, her happiness wont increase if she changes partners. (Infact , one part of you thinks theres a possibility of decrease) . So, if its the so calledpure love, you should actually be happy for your woman.

Fry

It had taken him two painful terms to identify the symptoms. He looked them up in all the major textbooks. There was no doubt about it. All the authorities concurred: Shakespeare, Tennyson, Ovid, Keats, Georgette Heyer, Milton, they were of one opinion. It was love. The Big One.

She of the sapphire eyes and golden hair, She of the Limbs and Lips: she was Petrarch’s Laura, Milton’s Lycidas, Catullus’s Lesbia, Tennyson’s Hallam, Shakespeare’s fair boy and dark lady, the moon’s Endymion. She was Garbo’s salary, the National Gallery, she was cellophane: she was the tender trap, the blank unholy surprise of it all and the bright golden haze on the meadow: she was honey-honey, sugar-sugar, chirpy chirpy cheep-cheep and his baby-love: the voice of the turtle could be heard in the land, there were angels dining at the Ritz and a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.

:|

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”

7th Sem

To label this sem with any adjective would do it injustice. Anything that describes an aspect of it to some degree of accuracy would be contradicting to the opposite aspects, which were equally present. To start with negatives, varunie expired.She. The one who first made me realise that my heart is not dead and buried, and it still has that pounding and nervous excitement which first yearites should have. The one who always gave me an ear. The one who I could always look upto you. The one who added another layer of sunshine to quizzes. I would remember every moment of rendezvous 2010.I'd remember stalking her on fb. I'll remember her first message. and greetings near library.

Anyway. I should also remember Gagandeep's breakdown, and his dad. and Prachi's problems. and  Shuvi's. Pradeep's dengue, and her Mom's messages and phones.

A lot happened this sem. Placements. Agra trip with Shiela. Sumedh's play with in the middle of the minors with charu. Imogen Heap in the middle of majors with Stuti. Other dates with stuti.Backstratblues.Dinner at MJ. dINNER AT fLIPSYDE. THE INDIA TODAY YOUTH CONFERENCE. STIEGLITZ LECTURE AT IIC. AUTISM LECTURE AT IHC. DINNER AT EATOPIA. SHUVI'S TREAT AT HRC. DAY OUT WITH SHUVI AND FOTE AT HKVILLAGE. NIGHTOUT WITH SHUVI, STUTI AND FOTE.lunch on the day of rbn makrs with stuti. (She looked so lovely)
anyway. lunches at subway.sittings in exhall and r2. days in kunzum. dayout with papa at lotus temple.
drinks and binges. and breaking down after that. Music of imogen heap and shins and classical music. Sigur ros and zindegi na milegi dobara.
Douglas Hofstadter! MML. RANDOM PHILOSOPHERS.Richa Kumar and STS. Bolia and AIIMS visits. Naveen Garg! SChandra and the senti meeting. The sponty colloq. the sponty mml presentation. functional analysis in finance!
barclays test. blade runner. stuti and her paper balls.sts class in qahwa. whispers of the heart.9 cms per second.
what else? I havnt covered half the things.
new friends? harshad. deepshikha.riccha.
deloitte ppo!,bplan,prachis mails,stuti talking about marriage and future plans.word games. literati. rendezvous. crossword. airplane.the music gigs. rendezvous jam. Im douglas hoftstadter. im so meta, even this acronym.bang at impotency. the concert with sis. the interhostel jam. the movie quiz.not to foget.6 As and a B.
sigh
i miss varunie. i still remember the first time i saw her. in r2. i thought she was an exchange student.
I dont know why I'm even writing this. Varunie has gone. Stuti was never there. and I dont know what I am doing here. I am afraid for next year.
Winter is coming.

I cant help it

That guitar riff somehow just captures it. Her passing through my life like that. Like a breeze with a faraway destination, never meant for me. And me flaying my arms like a madman and trying to touch it, feel it.At the same time realising that it is impossible.As my brain infroms me repeatedly of the inevitability and my heart is disheartened, my arms and body refuse to listen -  they are acting outside my control.

In the end, we are just two little carbon based life forms. We'll exist for atmost 50,60 years more. In the vastness of the universe, and the eternity of time, it doesnt matter at all.So dont the chemical and neurobiological activity taking place inside me. Which feels like what people recognize as love. It would give me great relief to just send the message across. In the overall vast canvas of space time , it doesnt matter at all. Why can I not do it, then ?
Because it is pointless. It will give me great hurt, and it will sure damage cause me damage.

....

What is the puzzle? I can feel it. Yet I know words wont be able to capture it. They would diminish the magnitude of the problem.  Not magnitude. Because the puzzle has no magnitude. It is incomprehensible, but more than that. The closest who ever came to convey or express the puzzle is Douglas Adams. The question to the answer of life, universe and everything.
If we cant even describe the question, bringing in the notion of an answer is pointless.and thats exactly what 42 is.
What is life? What is consciousness/? Time, Memory? Future? To express the question succinctly, WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?

New Slang

The memory of her is forever saved in the song. It will always be there, no matter what. After she has left, after shes married, had kids, gotten old. She'll remain in there.

The truth is..

She does not like me. Yet she is always nice to me.She does not see me as I imagine she does. Does she pity me on some level? I hope not.

I  wish I was cool.

Nope.
Not going to write about it.
Not even a word.
I promised myself.
Wont write about the IIC trip and the Eatopia Dinner.
Sigh.
I realised I am extraordinarily happy when I'm with her, and have this overwhelming sense of loss when I'm not.
Its a tradeoff. I can let go off both. Do I prefer the eternal melancholy with the spikes of joy?

“Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.”

It is extraordinary. Shes just not leaving my mind. Its like a virus, only much worse. Fabulous.Astounding. After all those years of self enlightenment, there is still much to know about myself.

and to think that its not something unique. That there are probably many others  who felt the same, and went through the same. The mere thought is depressing. That I am just one of the many.and theres is nothing to it. nothing special about it.

Its been an interesting semester.Powerfully Stimulatingly interesting.

I can see myself doing irrational stuff and trying to rationalize it.and yet,after all the clever observation, do nothing about it. Why did I not attend the MUN workshop and go to the IHC talk instead? Why did I not hesitate a bit in getting the class postponed?
Because of the new experience, the randomizing knowledge philosophy, being impulsive and trying out different things stuff? I am not so sure.

Why am I even considering asking her out for the Stiglitz lecture? Because of the reciprocrity thing? I can easily ask Shankhayan or Prachi or Charu or PGM. It might even be better if I go alone. Why, then? I know the answer to the question. and yet I dont know it.Compelete irrationality is what it is. or is it something more serious? like a drug addiction?

“Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.”


Atleast I know it is temporary. Atmost one semester left.

No more posts

Irrationality

I am afraid I might start hating her. Ofcourse, eventuall I will. I dont want it to go that way. It wont remain pure then. I think staying away is better. For it. and for her.

Why do I still do these irrational things?

Issues

So..other people have issues too. and Probably more serious than mine.  

The Game

There is nothing more dejecting and disheartening than this feeling of solitude. The solitude that arises from the inability to communicate.Not inability. Impossibility. Even more so when theres nothing you want to do more than this. To go. Shake and make her understand. Talk and write letters. Even cry maybe..But there is nothing,nothing I can do that will bring her even an inch closer to me.
The Game. It is not a very high level game as Ma'am said. I just realised I am playing it everyday, every moment. and I am losing every time. and its just not the game I am losing.

Dangerous Perspectives

Sometimes it seems so silly. 

Coincidence, again?

In fact, the girl from Bangladesh married someone else, and he went to her wedding.


I would never be able to do that.

They say unrequited love has inspired some of the greatest works of art. I can tell. I feel poetic everytime I allow myself to go down that path. Ofcourse, down that path lie beautiful imaginations.and pain. and helplessness,anguish.  and whenever I come back, all that clusters and gels into a stream of melancholy that I carry everytime. and then when people look at me, they ask, why am I  tense.or why am I sad. or if I am not feeling well.

This phase has really tested me. I thought I knew all about myself. But thinking that I know and actually experiencing it are two concepts entirely different.

Toska

"No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”

― Vladimir Nabokov 

Emotions

Why do I feel this way? Why, having developed all the experience and introspective self observational tools over the years,am I not able to control myself? Why is it that I think about her and drown in the infinite melancholy, even though I know its a potentially damaging state?

Because there is something that lives in me. Some emotion. Which developed out of nowhere. Through my rational and intuitive processes. No matter how hard I try , I cannot control it.I cannot diminish it. I cannot change it.
The only thing I can do is stay away from her. So that this part of me is incapacitated by lack of activity, and slowly go into a lull. Hopefully even wither away in some dark corner of me.
But as of now, everytime I see her, it burns even more brightly. Her thoughts serve as oil for this fire. and it dances. and every time she refers to her boyfriend, or every thought of  her with him, tortures this part.
and both these processes make it alive once again.

I should realise by now that theres no way my rational and introspective abilities can control it. Modify or extuingish these emotions. The only way out is to keep it dormant, and hope that it will erode and diminish, bit by bit.

Morality and Actions

I think the most intuitive actions, regardless of morality or empathy, are the ones which are the easiest and most comfortable. What social and moral conditioning does is that make those actions which might be harmful for the society more uncomfortable, so that  in following the most comfortable path, we chose the ones which do social good or individual good.

More thought on this later...Need to develop this.