Wo ishq hi kya jo apne yaar se na kiya?
Aakhir ishq kya hai? Dosti ya mohabbat, Inn dono ke fasle kya hai? Dosti aur mohabbat ki darare kya hai? Kya mukammal ho pata aisa ishq jisme yaar hi deedar ban jaye? Kya pyaar ke izhaar se dosti ishq mein badal jati hai ya dosti ke maayne kuch badal se jaate hai?
Kya pyaar mein junnon hai aur dosti mein sukoon?
Why is that the heart functions in a manner so incomprehensible to the human mind, that one fears it far worse than any of their nightmares? Why is it that an organ that solely belongs to you, can start to beat for someone else? Why is it that a tiny fist like organ seems to control your entire life? Do we give it that sort of power? As much as we love to be rational, is it not this tiny organ that whispers to us in the late hours of night, demanding answers, only to make you want to feel nothing but cold?
How do we define love?
“Pyaar dosti hai” Is friendship really the purest form of love? Have we tainted the definition of love? Can it not be infinite when the relation is platonic? But what happens when friendship becomes more demanding, not in a negative connotation but when expectations seem to change their definition? What happens when you fall in love with them and they don’t feel the same? Does one still continue to share that bond?
What is love and what is friendship?
Would mere words do justice to these emotions that seven billion in the world have felt? Are those sleepless nights worth it? Is not friendship the very foundation of love itself? When we say we love someone, is it not because of the friendship that we share with them? You know that friend you talk to in a manner so unfiltered that you don’t find the urge to weigh your words, you can simply tell them anything and everything that is on your mind. A bond so strong where you can be mean and insult them on their face but do not hesitate to slit a throat when someone else does that. A bond where you can be kids together when necessary but talk about lie decisions at the same time. When you can go for a fine dine to eat or street side vendors gol gappas together and yet choose the gol gappas every single time. When simply being around them life becomes a lot less exhausting. A friendship where you can talk to them about your ex and they’ll get you a box of tissues only to weep together while the moment you start to feel a little better, they shall look at you and say “sorry par koi andha hi tumse pyaar kare”. Is that now what friendship is about? It isn’t about being sugar coated but rather the very raw nature of it that makes it special. A bond where they are your go to person, if you ever murdered someone it is them that you will call to help you drag the corpse across the floor. It’s about talking endlessly to enjoying the serene silence that ironically speaks the most.
It is about a friendship that cannot be explained in grand gestures but rather in the most simplest things. Maybe it’s just about playing that song they love on the sea link or about yelling things in tunnels, maybe it’s just about reading a book or watching a movie because they recommended so or maybe it’s just about writing about them in abstracts in your poetries. Maybe it is about being a little jealous when they talk to someone or maybe it’s just about setting them up for some kick. Maybe it’s about talking to them about your dreams, life and career or maybe it’s just venting out to them about how nothing seems to go right. Maybe sometimes it’s not about providing comforting words just about lending a patient ear. Maybe it’s just about the ease and comfort that you share, knowing life is the way it is but having them by your side makes it a lot better. Maybe it’s when you can’t stand to have them around but also can’t stand their absence, a love-hate relation, maybe something like Tom and Jerry!
Maybe that’s what Shahrukh Khan really meant, “PYAAR DOSTI HAI!LOVE IS FRIENDSHIP…AGAR WHO MERI SABSE ACHI DOST NAHI BAN SAKTI TOH MEIN USSE KABHI PYAAR NAHI KAR SAKTA..KYON KI DOSTI BINA PYAAR TO HOTA HI NAHI..SIMPLE PYAAR DOSTI HAI!
An artist, book addict, and an impulsive poet on a
pilgrimage to find and write raw unaltered poetry.
