One thing I had always been confident about was that I could never fall in love, come what may. Moreover, there were sufficient reasons to be so confident about this fact. One reason was that I had other more important destinations to reach in life. Prime among them was to prove my worth to everyone. I had failed miserably in doing that till now; let me list some instances – I was not very good at studies, I was not very good at sports, I had dropped a class during my school days, I had to give up science stream after my intermediate because I could not secure enough percentile to get admitted to a science discipline in graduation, and the most important, I could not qualify in the pre-engineering test. Then, with all these censorious “achievements,” how the hell could I think of falling in love?

Being an astute fan of Allama Iqbal, love always reminded me of his great and famous couplet:

Nahin tera nash-e-man Qasr-e-Sultani ke gumbad par;

Tu shaahin hai, basera kar paharhon ki chattano par.

It's not among the Domes of Kingly Palaces that your abode lies;

For you are the Falcon, so make then your abode, among the high peaks of the lofty mountains.

So, well, love was like the Domes of Kingly Palaces for me, which obviously did not resonate anywhere close to my abode!! My abode – and my motto in life – was to gain recognition, to achieve greatest heights, to carve my own personal identity. Maslow might have placed self-actualization at the highest level of his hierarchy of needs, but for me self-actualization was the first and only need. To reach that level of hierarchy, I had to struggle really hard, and leave aside anything else that might have the slightest possibility of interfering in this tread.

These were my thoughts when I found myself failing again, this time in the MBA entrance exams at AMU. Not only that, I could not even qualify for the Mass Communication entrance exam, which was the first step to a career so close to my heart, soul, and perhaps my existence. My graduation was complete, and I had nowhere to go now, except for taking admission in post graduation (in Economics, the subject in which I graduated). I had never liked the idea of dropping a year and engaging in preparation for a competitive exam, unlike most of my friends. Dropping a year – and if I don’t succeed even then?? That would simply mean waste of a complete year (this was so innately inscribed in my thoughts perhaps because of the fact that I had experienced what dropping a year meant at school). On the contrary, if I did not drop, I would still move ahead and reach somewhere in the end. Maybe not at the point where I wanted to be, but perhaps somewhat closer to that destination. These perceptions made it pretty easy for me to decide and take admission in MA Economics.

Post graduation at AMU was co-ed. Wow! Girls!! Girls from Women’s College would be coming for classes, and they would attend classes with the boys. This was not my motivational factor, unlike almost all of my friends. So strong was the motivation for them that many of them would eventually end up with more than 85% of attendance, something really really uncommon in the AMU of my days!! Moreover, I had studied in a co-ed convent so girls were not at all something crazy new for me. This being at the back of my mind, I had decided to maintain least possible interaction with the girls. After all, they were not my destination. Classes started soon, and I suddenly eyed one girl who was of “my size”!! Well, yes, for me, size is all that matters!!!! I knew it was infatuation, something I had experienced OFTEN during school days as well and knew to tackle quite easily. But I had to do something to come to terms with the infatuated feeling. So I took one of my friends into confidence and made him a partner in a crime that would create history in the Department (Our faculty offered various courses in countless subjects, and each subject generally had a separate department. When I say Department, it should mean our Economics Department) for the months to come.

Me and my friend prepared a list of hot pairs in the Department, one boy and one girl in a pair!! This list had nothing to do with the reality, but we made pairs after closely observing the girls and boys in the class. Then the two of us stealthily made enlarged copies of the pairs list and stuck it on all the walls of the Department on the night after February 14^th. Nobody knew who was/were behind this mischief, but this pairing list served as the foundation for many couples that were formed in our class!!! And to avoid any suspicion on me, I had put my name at the top of the list, paired with none other than the same “my size” girl!! And my partner in crime thought I was in love with her and did all this to express my love!! I knew my truth quite well – infatuation was not love.

Now, don’t start jumping to conclusion that my infatuation turned into love. No way. I have always had my priorities right, and would never end up so pathetically. Love happened to me one day, withholding the old Hindi adage (or is it Urdu??) – Pyaar kiya nahin jaata, buss ho jaata hai… And did not just happen in one day – I am a strong disbeliever of love at first sight. There was another girl whom I had not been attracted to, either because I had stayed put on my resolve to maintain the least interaction with girls, or perhaps more because she was rather simple, serene, decent, modest, and demure compared to all other girls. (Hehehehe, my adjectives do tell a lot about her, don’t they??)

The more I observed her, the more I started liking her. Then we had an outing together and went to the International Trade Fair at Delhi, the whole class. We spent a lot of time together; the two of us had some conversation together for the first time. I started observing her even more acutely and every observation lead to an increment in my liking for her. Something in her was terribly close to my dream girl. If I ever fall in love with anyone, she would be like her, I told myself. It was difficult for me – no, actually impossible – to accept at that time that I was in love. My destinations of life were still far far away, and I did not want any interference with those. So, I solemnly continued to march towards my dreams of creating my identity in this despondent world.

The final year of my post graduation was about to start, and this time round, I had to compete for admission to one of the professional courses. With all my might, I struggled; I knew this would be my last chance to prove myself. If I failed, I would end up doing PhD and taking up a teaching job somewhere, which I acrimoniously hated at that time. I tried hard and succeeded in qualifying for Masters in Mass Communication at AMU and MBA at Hamdard University. Taking the expert advice from friends, philosophers, and guides, I finally ended up doing MBA at Hamdard University, New Delhi. It was a bit of a disappoint to leave my friends at AMU and my post graduation in the middle, but the enthusiasm of pursuing MBA and then making a new and distinct identity of my own was too overwhelming for me to think of these things.

During the first two semesters of MBA, I was a frequent visitor to Aligarh. Of course, I had a whole bunch of friends out there, who were still pursuing their MA in Economics. Since I had achieved the first step towards my goals, I had the time to sit back and retrospect. It was then that I eventually realized and acknowledged it. With all my past experiences, I could differentiate between love and pure infatuation. It was love, for sure. And after all, some say that sometimes distance does make you fall in love. So, now I was preparing myself for the great test – expressing it!

I geared myself up several times to express my heart to her. But it was not going to be easy. Not that I lacked the courage or feared rejection. Or maybe yes, I did fear rejection to some extent. But it was worth it to at least try and get rejected than to live the whole of life anticipating if she would have really accepted or rejected. But before making up my mind finally, I still had to ponder on the present circumstances and future consequences – retrospection and introspection being the most decisive tool for me in every walk of my life.

I was not intimidated by the thought of rejection at the first instance, so thought on the acceptance side. If she accepted (which seemed as an obscure reality), was I ready to shoulder that responsibility? I was pursuing MBA, right, but was there any guarantee that I would be able to achieve a decent job eventually? What if she would be put to undue test and trouble because of me? How would I ever convince my family (My mother and siblings would not question it, I was sure. But what about the rest of the family, whom my family and I were so much dependent on? And once family struck me, I suddenly recalled my biggest responsibility towards my family – my sister. How could I become so selfish, uncaring, and inconsiderate and think of my own personal self before my sister was married and decently settled? If I somehow decide to take on this relationship, what is the guarantee that circumstances would favor me to shoulder the great responsibility of my sister? I got a big NO as answer to all these questions. Then, what if she actually rejected me? Would I be able to maintain my self-confidence and stride towards my goals with the same fervor and zest, as I should? NO again.

Expressing love at this point simply meant losses at all fronts. It was because of these reasons that I never expressed my heart. I burnt within my own self without letting anyone know about what was going within. Life was not easy for me with this decision, but it was my own personal decision and I respected it. I had my goals in front of me and continued to stride towards them. Then I heard from someone that she had got married. That was a kind of good news for me, at least I would not be bothered with her anymore, her marriage signified the end of any road leading to her. So now, I could fully concentrate on my goals. Fair enough, I kept on striding towards my goals, and time went by. Now in the present, I stand to retrospect on my past – what did I lose and what all I gained. I did gain a lot, no doubt about it, but lost equally the same. I will end my discussion here, because the remaining part of the introspection is too personal to be left open.

The thought of writing this came to me when I had a short discussion with one of my colleagues on whether love is equivalent to compromises. I believe against it - friendship and love can never be compromises. If we express our love, and get acceptance in return, it is sure triumph. If we express it and are rejected, it is destiny. For me, it is triumph even in this case, because we then have the courage to at least face the destiny. There is this third possibility, that is if we choose not to express it. Well, that maybe a compromise (as in my case), but a compromise not with love, but of evading and eluding the reality. This is defeat, in my terms. I accept that I have succumbed to defeat while coming to terms with love and the reality of my life. I don’t know if ever I will be able to come to terms with love and reality of life again. This is one reason why when now I should be supposedly getting married soon, my mother asks me about my preferences for a girl, and I don’t have any answers. I cannot imagine nor expect anyone else to replace my love, though someone might come very close to her (or probably transcend her, who knows!). But love has no comparisons as such. You love someone not by measures, but just for what he/she is. Love happens only once, the rest, they all say, is just life (thanks Saurav for this quotation of yours, I really liked it!).

Awaarapan, banjarapan, ek khala hai seene mein;
Har dam par pal, bechaini hai, kaun bala hai seene mein.

Iss dharti par jiss pal suraj roz sawere ugta hai;
Apne liye to theek ussi pal roz dhala hai seene mein.

Awaarapan, banjarapan, ek khala hai seene mein;

Jaane yeh kaisi aag lagi hai, ismein dhooyaan na chingaari;
Ho na ho iss baar kahin koi khwab jala hai seene mein.

Awaarapan, banjarapan, ek khala hai seene mein;

Jiss raste par tapta suraj saari raat nahin dhalta;
Ishq ki aisi raahguzar ko hum ne chuna hai seene mein.

Awaarapan, banjarapan, ek khala hai seene mein;

Jiss raste par tapta suraj saari raat nahin dhalta;
Ishq ki aisi raahguzar ko hum ne chuna hai seene mein.

Awaarapan, banjarapan, ek khala hai seene mein;

Kahan kissi ke liye hai mumkin, sab ke liye ik saa hona;
Thora sa dil mera bura hai, thora bhala hai seene mein.

Awaarapan, banjarapan, ek khala hai seene mein;

 

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The backdrop of this song might be different in the movie "Jism", but I like it more because it emulates my personal disposition to a great extent.