How To Fall In Love

[Perverted interpretations are encouraged, at the right places]

Seriously, I have no clue about this one. And will probably never figure this one out. Far from being perpetually love-induced unlike some close friends [not that I abhor it], the only reason why this is my second blog post on this topic is because, well, I was out of topics to write on, my friend suggested a few things, and this one seemed toughest, and that was reason enough!

So, yeah, don’t expect me to write anymore than what the title literally entails. I wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of reading this you ended up laughing your insides out, instead of the anticipated gush of ‘I Knew I Am in Love!’ For both of those who’re not into the ‘love is all around’ syndrome and the ones who believe that ‘Love is very much all around’; well, you should take a read. Let’s cross out all our experiences, good or bad and just think that we’re living this one, as long as we read. What must be kept in mind, is that I’m writing purely out of imagination.  So, you’re a new sophomore. You find some, no; quite a few eye candies around. It’s nice to think of going out on a date with Each of them, one by one, each day. Even nicer to think that you’re asked out by them, in order of your favourites. Life seems blissful already. Months go by, there’s plenty eye contact during classes, and more after classes, if you know what I mean. Someday that all-time-favourite chick is looking all shrivelled up, and not that hot, and you don’t want to say no. And then you flash a bright, wide smile at the girl next to you, hold her hand tight and skid off. The next day she’s back to looking all sizzling and propped up, literally, so are you, [naturally] and you both behave as if nothing ever really happened, and head out after classes.

                    Couple more weeks down the line you get bored, actually. You zero in on someone, so does she, over a couple of meetings and things seem great, this being your first stint at ‘relationships’. You’re pretty happy with the smooth sailing, you never have to bother about that front. Things get lovey-dovey and you guys actually start doing little things for each other, missing each other. One fine day, she ends it. States reasons, keeps it short and sweet. You accept it all, because you know you were being rather selfish. She finds someone else soon enough, you don’t try and act like the jealous ex and run after her like a love-sick puppy. You yourself were eyeing other girls, it was time to move on, after all. That’s what she said to you, come on. A fortnight later, you are with a hotter, no not sweeter chick. You find yourself falling for her sooner than you’d ever think you would. And, she ditches you, after cheating on you a month later. You invite all your guy friends over for a sleepover, get sloshed. While you’re sitting on the corner of the bed, after you return from the washroom having puked all you want; you end up staring at your friend, and realise you’re smiling at him. He stands up, equally sloshed, takes your hand and you both go into the other room. Things happen, you both end up feeling great- ecstatic, happily exhausted- after weeks, months. You realise you’ve had your dose of girls, for the year. Then, you keep in touch and things seem to be going great for both till you both are on the verge of getting caught. You admit you’re no hero, and you cut off contact altogether. Things seem all blurred and vague to you. You finally have time on your hands to think over what happened over the past few months, and you don’t seem to have a clue. The inability to be able to come up with a logical sequence of events irks you no end. You’re scared, so you start off with your random dates and night outs again, with the hottest of chicks in the campus. And each morning after, you thank your stars you’re not entirely ‘gay’.

                 While you’re all focused on your academics and close to excelling at it, you still can’t get over the emotional whirlwind that went by the previous year. And what comes as a pleasant surprise is noticing you’re being eyed by a demure dame, someone whose presence you were not even aware of all these months. Neither was she. You are secretly infatuated with her, you like to check her out then and now. You go ahead to ask her out, and you discover you’ve been the butt of her jokes lately. You’re miffed, but not enough to stop liking her altogether. A few days pass by, and you see her taking even more interest in you. She flirts, and smirks, leaves. You end up realising she’s not all that coy, as you liked. Just as she would almost hate you on knowing you were a little into that close ‘bro’ of yours. You’re happy enough to see her play around, drop euphemisms, and you end up feeling more shy in front of her each day. Things grow intense with each passing day, neither says a word though. Come Monday, and you’ll ‘do something about it’. She doesn’t turn up. You’re restless by the end of the day. Angry. Tuesday’s here, and you’re on your toes. Classes over, you call her, she turns back, comes walking in confident strides. You’d imagined an entire conversation, guessed her responses, but realised things went a little off-track here. She looks into your eyes, with the ‘Tell me what’s been going on’ look, and smiles sweetly the very next instant. You’re confused, more than ever. Shyer, too. After five more minutes of no talk, only awkward smiles later, you just say ‘nothing’ and you both walk on. She’s close to sprinting, you realise. Grabbing her hand, you pull her into the classroom, kick the door, and you both embrace and kiss, walk out ten minutes later, laughing. Months later, you're still together.

Quite adventurous a ride this would be, if someone were to experience this for real. Many have. How many of you have been able to read up till here, is something I’d want to know, if I could. Some could term it explicit, weird- whatever term suits their fancy. Having written this as I thought, this is how ‘love’ should be seen, by people alike. You might as well end up liking it. Drop the notions, rigid conventions, go for those impulsive likings, to try and know what love is, for a change. The ‘How’ part will fall in place on its own.