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If there’s something I know about love…it is this. You never know how much you have and how much you can give. You never run out of it. You never don’t need it. You always have it. And it may not be enough sometimes, but most of the times in life, it is enough. Love is enough.

You ever wonder that love cannot solve the practical issues you face in life? It cannot pay your bills. It cannot help you live longer.  It cannot make you more successful (i.e. by your definition). It cannot wipe away the mistakes and regrets. It cannot do so many things in life that need to be done. Well, it might not, but does it not make life more full? More fulfilling? More life?

But there’s one another thing about love that we should understand. Love without respect does not mean so much. It withers out in the end. You know, you love your pet. Women even ‘love’ their shoes or dresses. Men ‘love’ their cars, their gadgets. So when you love another person, better add respect to that or it would be as dispensable as shoes or car.

I am a believer in the power of good things in life – love being one of the most important. That’s the reason I write love stories. I even google love stories around the world and read them. I love it when someone has a happy ending in their story. In real life. It gives you something to be glad about.

There is another wonderful thing about love. It does not only grow deeper, but it also becomes better. You can sometimes be surprised by how you can simply keep on loving someone and keep on growing in love, without you even realizing it. One fine day, you just know that you might have thought that you cannot love more since you are giving enough, but somehow you still have the capability to give more…love more or love the same person in a better way. It is like when I had my daughter, I thought I could never love anyone so much as much as I loved her. I thought that was the limit of my love. But then, my son was born after just one and a half years, and I realized I was so wrong. I could love him as much as I loved his sister. Then, I thought well, I have 2 children, so perhaps I have only that much love to give. Turns out, I was wrong again! I did find much more love inside my heart when I had my third. Eventually, I realized, I loved all the 3 of them more than I could have ever imagined. And, I loved hubby more than I thought I could. Basically, I still am discovering new depths, new ways, new expressions.

So yes, the thing about love is that it is beautiful and enough.

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Writing, of course! Right? But…

Why do I write? There is no simple answer to that. I write because I love it; because it gives me a contentment I never imagined; because it is therapeutic for me. If I am happy, my joy multiplies by writing about it; if I am sorrowful, I find solace in writing. When I write, I may not be writing about the sorrow in the current time, but just putting down few meaningful words on a document makes me feel sane and makes me forget the pain.

We have always heard that love makes you lose sleep and appetite; writing does the same for me. If I feel like writing, I can start at 12 in the night, even after a long and tiring day; and I have to force myself to stop and get some sleep since there will be another tiring day to face. When I write, there is no hunger and no sense of time or place. Writing is another world for me, a world where I can control my negative emotions and generate more positivity.

As you day-dream in love, I dream about writing. I dream about a day when I could get up in the morning and just start writing, and continue till I feel like, without bothering about job, home, food, anything. My ideal day would begin writing while sitting under a tree, surrounded by a beautiful garden and a waterfall in the background. I crave for the freedom to pickup the pen and paper (or laptop) anytime a story idea struck me. I fantasize about the ability to go into the fiction world whenever and wherever I wished. I guess I am just in love with writing. And good thing about this love affair is that I am probably never gonna be at the stage of familiarity and boredom…there is so much to learn, to evolve, as a writer. This is just the beginning, for something which will never end since I will never stop learning as a writer.

Most of the time, while I am doing the household tasks, I enter into my fantasy world and start thinking about story ideas and plots. Most of those never make it to the paper. They just keep developing in my mind and stay there. Some are even lost. There are others which reach to the point of getting acknowledged in the form of a Word doc, but just lay there unfinished and unattended. But I write them because I know I will use them sometime in the future; even if I don’t, they help me in finding new ones and they serve as a practice for something I want to write about.

And most of the times, those stories that never make it to end or sharing with others, were actually not meant to be for that purpose. My stories give me a sense of relaxation which people usually find when they share with the closest of friends or with a therapist. I have my own counselor, always with me. I never need to take an appointment, I do not bother about the time limit, and I don’t have to care about the fees 😉 I have a very fulfilling relationship with writing.

Long back, when I wrote very rarely, I found the same fulfillment in reading. Sometimes, when I had nothing to read and I needed some therapy, I would read even my course books! Sometimes, I used to wonder if I was crazy, living in a fantasy world and finding contentment sharing with books, rather than with people. But it turned out well in the end. And I am still a lover of books, though my preference has changed a lot over the years and I no longer read any academic books to feel better 😉 Though I still read my daughter’s coursebooks sometimes, curious about what they teach now and how it is different. Though I prefer reading in English, I do love Hindi books as well, especially stories by Premchand. I am a true lover!

But now, I have two loves…writing joined the race long back, when I was just 10…but it was a close second always. Now, I cannot differentiate. So here I am, the lucky one, who found love, not once but twice. A love affair that never goes stale, partners that never become boring, activities that never become routine…and love that is different and better every day!

My Books

Read the review Love No More (Love, It Is!)

Read the review Love, It Is!

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