BENGALURU: Good morning, Bangalore!
When I was growing up, there was a very distinct and unique way of expressing one’s love and affection. Though I must admit, very overt forms of affection were not a strong suit with most parents of my generation. Love and a show of respect went hand in hand. Children were obedient to the point of rarely having their own opinions and total obedience was taken as a sign of respect, which in turn, translated into ‘love’. Ditto with relationships and marriages and though it may sound a little convoluted now, a status quo was maintained…love equals obedience equals respect equals to love. QED! One didn’t have to be Pythagoras to solve this theory!
That’s probably why I was always considered ‘different’ by my friends. My parents openly showed their affection and the rules at home were very clear. If you feel ashamed of a thought or a deed, then don’t do it. Follow your heart, love with abandon and never be afraid to question or speak up. I was given the ‘freedom of expression’ but it came with a catch! I was never allowed to ‘vomit’ out hurtful or disdainful expressions and resorting to bigotry and discrimination hiding behind my freedoms was forbidden. We were a ‘touchy feely’ family.
We loved and fought with abandon and there were absolutely no ego hang-ups about expressing our love (or anger!) My childhood memories are filled with whispered ‘I Love You’ as my eyes closed for the night. But naturally, I used the same formula when I had a family of my own. My husband comes from a close-knit family himself but they were not as demonstrative verbally or physically as my family. My husband and his siblings are fiercely loyal to each other and their love is demonstrated by lavishing the members of their family with food! One can never go hungry or thirsty in their family! I still remember the slight shock on their faces when I was newly married and I ‘football tackled’ everyone with bear hugs and kisses. I was definitely the odd-ball and I suspect I remain one to this day.
At the cost of sounding slightly jaded, I think the word ‘love’ is bandied about a trifle frivolously these days. Thanks to companies like the Archies’ syndicate, one can buy mushy and generic cards and other objects d’art to show one’s love. The effort of writing a personalised message is so passé for today’s generation. I suppose I shouldn’t be so supercilious because the rise of the ‘flower power’ movement in the early sixties was partially to blame with their ‘universal love’ ideology where individual love was deemed selfish.
With the Age of Aquarius on the wane and the advent of the millennium, I feel there is too much pressure on today’s kids to show their love (or like) to each other. Massive amounts of money have to be spent and the young ’uns are pressurised to out-do themselves. New age parents aren’t left behind in this new age epidemic. We all know how many high-end cars have been totalled by the ‘super brats’ of ‘super loving’ parents with deep pockets!
I’m happy that some things remain unchanged. My husband’s idea of a pre-Valentine gift to me was to buy expensive (for us) tickets to Pankaj Kapur’s brilliant play, Dopehri, for me. Just to watch a fellow theatre artiste bring alive the narration of his novel of the same name was a sublime experience. For my partner to sit with me and revel in my happiness is ‘love’. I was surprised with a perfect bunch of blood-red roses for Valentine’s Day and after my famous ‘football tackle’, I did protest that the flowers must have been grotesquely expensive on the day designated to love! Love is only emotionally expensive.