First love; there is nothing quite as magical as that. Life seems so much more beautiful than before. All the crap that you see in movies seems to be happening to you. The pleasurable shudder that his/her voice or gaze sends down your spine is something that will happen rarely ever again in your life. My first love was ephemeral, almost like a slip of the tongue (there was no slipping the tongue down anybody’s throat, however!). To begin with, I proposed to him and that is like breaking the biggest rule there is about relationships. Then there were stark differences in our personalities which we used to justify saying cheesy stuff like ‘you complete me’ and ‘opposites attract’. Opposites do attract but then they attack. Our relationship lasted one month which seemed like a year with its long warm summers and the dreary dead winter towards the end. We split up because his dreams involved back packing around the Bermuda triangle and skiing in the Saharas and it is impossible for an accident-prone girl to tag along with Munchausen.
I am in a very fulfilling relationship built on mutual respect, selfless love, understanding and a bit of compromise now and then. Still, it takes no more than a song we both loved, ‘our’ movie, some stray comment to remind me of him and I admit it without shame or guilt. Right now, I am listening to ghazals from a C.D. that he gifted me. I can throw it away like I threw away that beautiful wood house sort of thing or that pencil stub that once belonged to him but it will do me no good. I am over him to a point where I consider calling him up and complete the ‘making peace’ process that has gone so far very well. The only hitch in this plan is that he might not really see this in the sense that I see it. It will take up new meanings including the obvious one that I am crawling back to him after being dumped by Sreenivasan-look-alike. Kash tum bhi mature hota… This sentence might irk you so much that you might even consider showering me with another string of obscenities and coarse slang that I would regret ever having considered the possibility of such bonhomie.
RK has an even worse situation with RDX. RDX keeps acting like some voyeur in the street who tries so hard to get your attention that they do not care how low they make themselves seem. Her keyboard is her only instrument and on a very regular basis she puts in taunts and teases all aimed at him and even once in a desperate attempt to get him to respond, a post asking him to give her a ring as she is unsure what visiting her blog so frequently means. It is kind of fun watching her run about trying to entice him not knowing that RK is taken and at the same time I feel an enormous sense of pity seeing her desperation. It seems a little too obvious that she has not moved on. Saad. RK enjoys seeing RDX act like a cockroach which has just been sprayed on with pesticide.
Is it really impossible for exes to be friends? I do not think so. If both people are mature enough to admit the fact that they have moved on and that the present is much better than the past and learn to be happy for each other, there is always hope of sharing a cup of coffee without hoping for the lips on the cup to be on theirs. Sometimes words just mean what they mean and have no inner meanings and actions are not signals. If we can all accept that for once and for all, everything would have been much simpler. It might take some time to develop a new schema for someone you had attached a different one with so much certainty. It takes a lot of effort from both sides to make any relationship work and even friendship. One cannot feel positive that someone who never put any effort into making their relationship work will try hard to mend an already spoilt tie. But isn’t the world always much better off with less hate and a bit more love?