Love is in the air(sic)

Come the month of February and the world paints itself in a nauseating shade of pink and red. Every morning, social media accounts seem to be full of notifications for some 'day' or the other. Rose day, kiss day, teddy day and what not. And then comes the mother of it all - Valentines' Day. It's a day when one is supposed to hold hands with their loved one(s) and let them know how much they are loved by taking them out for romantic dinners, giving them fancy gifts or signing up for expensive massages or dance classes together to strengthen their bond and fall in love with each other all over again.
Much has been said on this blog about the origin of this celebrated day and how it is abused by our materialistic generation. I have also written numerous posts about how feelings, whether love or hatred or fear or respect should never be restricted to one day and should be celebrated every moment through our actions. Another common theme on ze blog around February every year happens to be celebrating all the single souls who brave this red and pink circus without self - pity. However, seeing a very close friend struggling through separation this year made my focus shift to those who, unfortunately, choose to part ways with their partner when the rest of the world is busy showing their togetherness off. It's easy to be single, it's easy to accept the fact that your perfect one never happened to you and there'd be no one to take care of you, offer you a gentle kiss on your forehead when you are unwell as you slowly age. What is really difficult is coming to terms with the fact that what you had perceived to be love was nothing but an illusion and what you had invested years in, is about to fall apart, leaving you empty, alone, defeated. Getting married is a brave decision to take and I have immense respect for those who have had the courage to walk down the aisle. I have more respect for those who had their dreams of a perfect married life crushed to death after a few months of marriage and still refused to come out of it just so that their children don't have to go through the trauma of growing up in a broken family. However, my highest respect is reserved for those who were brave enough to admit that they had taken a wrong decision and chose to free the other person as well as their own selves from the bond that served no purpose, knowing very well that they'd have nothing to fall back on other than their empty couch once the final call is taken.
So, this Valentines' Day, when you see a colleague smiling politely and giving an excuse of being overworked when asked about their Valentines' Day plans, please spare a moment to wonder what they are hiding behind that painful smile. This Valentines' Day, when you celebrate the passion you and your partner still have left after six years of suffocating togetherness, consider toning it down so that the man next door, who comes home to a strange musty smell and hidden, torn packets of contraception behind the kitchen sink can take a deep breath and pour himself another scotch while watching his beautiful wife sleep. This Valentines' Day, shed a tear or two for all the love gone awry, all the dreams shattered and celebrate those brave souls who rose from the ashes of their failure and chose to live instead.

Dress - Vero Moda, oxford - Simpark Mall, earring - New Market, lipstick - Red Plum by Colorbar

Dreams born out of fear...

I'm a firm believer of dreams. Dreams, if believed in and strived for, do come true. Even with the excessive exposure to television and video games these days, I'd like to pass on the pure, unadulterated gift of dreaming to my next generation. But do we ever wonder how our dreams are born? Do we dream of becoming someone or doing something because we really want what we dream or because we are scared of becoming someone else or doing something else that we loathe? I found out the origin of my dreams and it didn't turn out to be delightful. If there's one thing that I've wanted since time immemorial, it would be independence. Independence didn't mean only being financially independent. I always dreamt of being empowered enough to take my own decisions and own up my failures. Whoever saw me as a child still talks about how my games were always about going to work carrying my mother's "vanity bag", teaching, treating patients, refusing to get married and spend my life doing household chores...However, on further introspection, I realised how this idea of independence appealed to me simply because I didn't want to end up being like my grandmothers - asking for money from their husbands for every need, quietly accepting the humiliation of being explained how hard earned money should be spent if their husbands don't consider the expenses justified, not being able to speak out if they don't want to get pregnant any more, not being strong enough to walk out of a toxic marriage, putting up with abusive fathers for years...I didn't have a very coherent idea about being independent. All I knew was that I didn't want to grow up to be one of them.

Set Theory in Mathematics explains a beautiful concept called Complement Set using Venn Diagram. If all Sets are considered as Subsets of a Universal Set U, the Complement of a Set A would be U\A which includes everything under the sun other than A. My attempt to escape the life my grandmothers have had has forced me to become everything other than what they were even if I didn't originally have the taste for some of the things I have done during this attempt.

The sudden and painful realisation of not having an original dream of my own, independent of others' influences hit me hard. Would I be a robot without dreams if the persons playing an incidental role in forming my dreams simply cease to exist?

Pants, jacket, midi rings, loafers - Linking Road, thrifted tank top - B.K.Market, lipstick - Red Plum by Colorbar