By the end of this day I will have left this city for good. Delhi, where I lived for the past two years and some more. I wish I could define my relationship with this place, express in a few lines what this place has been for me but I can’t. It’s a complicated relationship of some sorts. There have been times when I have hated Delhi to extremes. And then in other times I have had nothing but infinite gratitude to this place for what it’s done to me. Delhi was my ‘shock absorber’ when I first landed here.
Posts Tagged ‘love’
Tags: delhi, gratitude, life in Delhi, love
The writing below ( by OSHO) is dedicated everyone (esp Nepalis):
- Who are bored (like me) reading the DITTO love story of the Gagan Thapa umpteenth time in Nagarik cum Republica (twice a year on both the web and print edition). With all due respect to the story, my question to the presswallahs is : ‘How many times must you publish the same story before you are convinced that everyone knows it by heart?’
- And everyone who wants crumple and toss newspapers into the dustbin which carry writings on love and Valentine’s Day revolving around ‘Sex before or after marriage’ every year!
Just to share the information that not all Love Material published on papers is crap. Some in fact, MAKE SENSE! I read the following piece in the Times of India Crest Edition ( Feb 13, 2010). And enjoyed it. Hope you like it too.
FLOW No full stops : The honeymoon never ends OSHO
Love relates, but it is not a relationship. A relationship is something finished. A relationship is a noun; the full stop has come, the honeymoon is over. Now there is no joy, no enthusiasm, now all is finished. You can carry on with it, just to keep your promises. To do so is comfortable, convenient, and cosy. Perhaps you do it because there is nothing else to do. Perhaps you think that if you disrupt it, it is going to create much trouble for you… Relationship means something complete, finished, and closed.
Love is never a relationship; love is relating. It is always a river, flowing, unending. Love knows no full stop; the honeymoon begins but never ends. It is not a novel that starts at a certain point and ends at a certain point. It is ongoing. Lovers end, love continues. It’s a continuum. It’s a verb, not a noun.
And why do we reduce the beauty of relating to relationship? Because to relate is insecure, and relationship is a security. Relationship has a certainty; relating is just a meeting of two strangers, maybe in the morning we say goodbye. Who knows what the morrow brings? We would like tomorrow to be according to our ideas; so we reduce verbs to nouns.
You are in love and immediately you start thinking of getting married. Make it a legal contract. The law comes
into love because love is not there. It is only a fantasy, and you know the fantasy will disappear.
If you enjoy being with somebody, you would like to enjoy it more and more. If you enjoy the intimacy, you would like to explore the intimacy more and more. And there are a few flowers of love that bloom only after long intimacies. There are seasonal flowers too: within six weeks they are there, in the sun, but another six weeks and they are gone forever. There are flowers that take years to come… The longer it takes, the deeper it goes. But it has to be a commitment from one heart to another. It has not even to be verbalised, because to verbalise it is to profane it. It has to be a silent commitment, eye-to-eye, heart-to-heart, being-to-being. It has to be understood, not said. Forget relationships and learn how to relate.
Relating means you are always starting, you are continuously trying to become acquainted. Again and again, you are introducing yourself to each other. You are trying to see the many facets of the other’s personality. You are trying to unravel a mystery that cannot be unravelled. That is the joy of love: the exploration of consciousness.
P.S : R.I.P the people (including one Nepali guy) who passed away in the German Bakery terrorist attack nearby the Osho Ashram, Pune.
Tags: fiction, greeting cards, love, valentine's day, valentine's day card
She was a sucker for cards. “There is a card for every occasion, every emotion and every person.” She believed. “But few have the patience to find the right card just meant for them “she had told him the very first time they met and produced humble card with these three words written on it” And we meet”. He had carefully pocketed the card in his jeans and flown all the way back home.