The Politics of Love

Love is about the curiosity to understand the enigma initially. Then it’s about to live with the knowledge of your discovery. You start up with the exercise of solving the mystery, to know the hidden. To discover, to experiment, to try and to justify your own perception of life, love and god. In the process, your existing perceptions are broken and newer ones are formed. That adds to the beauty of love. That keeps the thrill. That insures sustenance of love and the desire for more. Its about the curiosity to know how she thinks, loves, hates, betrays, tricks, hurts, cribs, plays, selects, survives, fights, tries, loses, wins, assures, inspires... lives. That curiosity even goes to the extent of seeing her sleep with men. Yes it would hurt you but then that sight would tell you what a great choice you made!!
To hear the voice of her orgasmic pleasures with different bodies and attitudes. Sex is not only pleasure. It is the device to know, to hurt, to confess. Your turn would come and the orgasmic pleasures would be taken over by the pleasure of knowledge. Knowledge, that you know her so well, so completely. A slight twist here, an intentional mistake there, a mischief, a crime and she is pleading for more. She will hold your hand but her grip becomes firmer only when you firm your grip. When you know this before holding her hand, then you don’t enjoy the touch, you enjoy knowing it when the grip becomes firmer. That is the pleasure of curiosity, of love. Knowledge to me is the beginning of love. Once you know her whats, you have to move on to know her whys. You then know why she does what she does. She debates loudly because she had a sister who was more beautiful than she was. She fights so ruthlessly because she failed in pre-board exams in high school and then topped the boards. She hides so much because she wanted to love a computer geek but she could not. She betrays so much because she was accused of infidelity by a man whom she really loved. She seeks so much because she was 2 and a half years old when she fell in love with her cousin and lost him to the customs of the world. When you know it all, then she fails to hurt you, betray you. You will rationalize, explain, justify whatever she does. That knowledge is what makes you live with her for ever. Her betrayal becomes a part of your knowledge. Her ways of hurting, insulting become the part of her picture which was incomplete before she did that to you. The more complete the picture, the more beautiful it is. Besides that, you know why she is what she is. That makes it divine, unsurpassable.
And that amount of knowledge prevents you from loving someone else. You don’t have the capacity to love someone else, to know someone else so much. Yes you might still have the impulse to experiment, to try, to even discover, but not for the sake of loving but for the fun of using your knowledge, testing it as an exercise to hone your skills for loving the real women better. All other women become dummies, on which you experiment, test try, learn and prove your superiority by virtue of your knowledge. I don’t know if this is a crime, but this is the truth for sure. A man loves only one woman, the woman who gives her knowledge about herself, about love, about life, about god, and above all, about himself. Rest all women in his life are laboratories.

Love is a journey from knowing the WHATS to knowing the WHYS. If the answers to whats fail to keep your interest, it all evaporates. If answers to whys are not sufficient then it becomes confusing, disturbing, even hurting.





After you have known her so well, the enigma is gone. The divinity is gone, the magic is all so well explained. Now you have the desire to conquer, possess, plunder, play and make her suffer. Not only for your pleasure but also for her to feel complete. She knows that you know. You know that she knows that you know. That is the beginning of conversation without words. No relation is complete without the hurts. There is no relation which is just Love-love relation. It has to be a Love-hate relationship. She knows your weaknesses, and she knows that you know that she knows. But she never speaks of it. Though her eyes have spoken about it so many times. You know her deceits, her tricks and you know that she knows that you know. But you won’t mention it in words. You will mention it when you ram her down when she is layed. That’s the politics of love. She will cry not out of pain of the hurt but out of the knowledge that you have known it all and have forgiven it by knowing everything completely. Similarly you will grumble in frustration while you look at yourself in mirror for being inadequate, and you will love her for accepting you. That inspires you to be lover enough, man enough. You are not lover enough if you don’t try to win her completely. And no man is man enough to be loved by a woman without being hated at the same time. No woman is woman enough to be loved by a man without being punished. That’s the only cute-war known to mankind. Knowledge-love-justice. And the politics of it all.

All the pains, inspirations, crimes, punishments that you go through is what is the achievement of love. That is what love achieves for you. It makes you go through so much. It makes you a survivor. You love to survive. Though you can love without surviving. Its insanity to love and not to survive but insanity is also a kind of survival. Insanity, for some is inevitable, for some it is a defense mechanism and for some it is a device for creativity The experiment on dummies and in laboratories produces brilliant pieces of art work. The accidents with the real subject of love become experiments on dummies. Though the real subject of love is not spared of experiments. But fear of going wrong prevents the researcher or the artist from going to the limits. You write the most dangerous line in the message box of yahoo messenger and keep your finger on ENTER, that insanity of a lover makes him creative. In the moments before he presses the key or deletes what he has written, he giggles, enjoys and creates. The adventure of not knowing what will happen if he sends it. The pleasure of not knowing whether he will send it or not. On dummies, ENTER and on inspirations, its delete.

I will write more in the next part of the post but before that I will quote G.B.Shaw. have quoted this phrase of his so many times and I still keep quoting it because I don’t believe someone other than me has written it.
“The most treacherous and remorseless of all battles is the battle between the artist man and the mother woman”