It’s one of those nights today when I transform into a cyborg, who never sleeps. After gazing at the ceiling for some two and a half hours, I have finally decided to sit down and write this article. Well, it’s not insomnia this time. The fact that I ate up an expired packet of chips today (of course I ate it accidently!) is making me uneasy. But this is not it. This jittery feeling, which has triggered a strange inquisitiveness in my mind, is haunting me badly right now, and not letting me sleep.
To think of it, today’s world is indeed obsessed with this concept of expiration date, and so am I. It’s everywhere, be it food or medicine or cosmetics. Almost every item of our daily consumption comes along with an expiration date, or guarantee period sometimes, but the purpose of both is more or less same. It shows that with time everything rots and decays.
Now just imagine, wouldn’t it be great if love and relationships also came with an expiration date? How great it would be if people also came with a label bearing the time period they are going to spend in your life? In such a case, it would have been a lot easier to psychologically accept the fact someone has gone out of your life because his role in your life was over. They left, because they were destined to leave you at this point.
The whole aftermath of a break up would have been a lot easier if you could know the expiry date of a relationship. See, if something rots you don’t mind getting rid of it right? It’s because you already know that if you keep on clinging to that rotten thing, it will harm you eventually. In a way it’s good but at the same time, its complex.
No pain in this world can be greater than knowing the fact that your love is decaying. If you could know in advance that your love will decay, wouldn’t you have cherished it more? Wouldn’t you have made efforts to preserve it? And if it still does, then at least you will have the satisfaction that you did your best to uphold it. At least you would have known that, originally, it was supposed to expire and die out this way only.
Well, I know I am a little bit hallucinated right now (what else do you expect from a lady who is troubled by the thought of eating an expired product?), but I really won’t mind even if my love decays or rots. Neither I will dwell over my rotten love nor will I make any attempt to restore it. You know why? Because if I am to love someone; I will love him like wine. The more it decays, the worthy it will be.
I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that is already clear in my mind. If it were clear in my mind, I should have no incentive or need to write about it. We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand (Robert Cecil Day Lewis). So, if anyone has an answer to the above stated question(s), then drop a line at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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