I fell in love many years back. It was beautiful, being given that feeling when one was young. And the lady was just perfect. Everything I'd dreamed of.. My friends who were also into the phase, (there were just a few of them, mind) endearingly welcomed me into the world that was to rule over our lives for the next many years, as we'd thought then.
I was barely a teenager. And when things happen in these years, they strike it big. So there I was, hopelessly in love. I spent a little amount of time with the love each day. Playing, sometimes working together. To my folks it seemed like a normal, childhood fancy. After all, this was the new generation, and this was how things worked for them. Little did they know that it was to become an obsession, a fatal charm that would carve its own huge share of my mind in the years to come.
The minutes I spent each day turned to hours. Sometimes entire days spent dwelling in each other's thoughts. Nights. In school it became widely known in its due course, and by the time I'd reached my last two years in that hallowed institution, it got to such an extent that to talk of one was to talk of the other. I was proud. And God knows I did it solely driven by passion, and not with any intention of pride. Pride came as a consequence, but it was merely a passionate pride, a sort of obsessive possessiveness that one may be excused of.
It was, thus, many years into this relationship that I was confronted with the decision. The legalisation. Or to pronounce the relation in a solemn manner. Of course, they said, the time to play around was over, and it was no secret to anyone. Little surprise, then, that a majority of my friends and people-who-knew expected the natural course - marriage.
However, my mind had taken a disturbing turn. Of course, first love, when it happens is blind. And so I was, I gathered. Even pleasure, after a long period of it, forces one to crave for change. I presume my mind must've succumbed to this inherent desire for a change of things, just like one craves for a change of fashion - a new hairstyle, a different beard - though I know I was to blame, atleast partly. For it had been under no low opinion, that I was introduced to the new girl. A rather close friend of my mother she was, and mom just vouched for her in all ways. I had also learnt that my cousin (who has a rather keen eye for these things) had had the pleasure of working together for four years. I was no stranger too, for many a times when we'd met had I eyed her with a new interest. She seemed elusive, enigmatic and full with physical vitality that I immediately found myself attracted to. The physical nature of the new love would be what I held the biggest reason for my separation from my first love.. the reason I cited to old friends who seemed surprised at my change of tidings. Also, the reason I used to repeatedly console myself with, whenever I was at the brink of regret.
I married the new girl months later. I was convinced I was doing the right thing. Change was wonderful. This was something solid, something physical, something to be content with, while my first love was just a crush. Or so my mind was thinking. And boy I loved my new life. Everything seemed awesome, and brag-worthy. Just talking about her made my friends interested. And narrating stories of the times we had together was enough to stir envy.
Gradually, a thought that had seeded itself in my mind began growing on its own. I loved my wife, but only those characteristics in which she resembled my first love. For instance, there were definitely a lot of traits about her that I detested, traits that I knew I was incapable of handling, hence I ignored. It took me some time to come to terms with the truth. The marriage was holding together in some strange way, but I could just not forget my first.
And we met, again. In a passionate embrace of body, soul and minds. For this was the oft-spoken chemistry at its best, and it had happened without my knowing it. And she became my mistress, my enchantress, my seductive lover. By day it was up to me to spend my time with my lawfully wedded (a very good time - that I wouldn't deny), and by night, after a hard days work, I would succumb to the charms of the mistress. It made me distraught, this two-timing, but of course it was the only way things had to work. For I had read in some novel, "Great men have great desires". Perhaps it was so in my case. I did not regret it, though it made me uneasy, and prone to failures on both sides occasionally. It was no secret to some, and those who knew even appreciated it for some strange reason.
Maybe it reminded them of the fact that Life, with its conventional and rigid framework that is but a work of human minds, can be beaten down to its bare essentials; and that to live without any obligation to mere societal ideals, to live just true to oneself and one's happiness, was a beautiful thing. I still am striving to make it beautiful.
To satisfy oneself.. and not just One other, but Two.
I fell in love with computers in sixth standard. I major in Electronics, and not a day passes by without my detesting the overdose of equations, to long to get home and immerse myself in pure and simpler computing delight. But I love both of them for different reasons. This is my story.