Being in Love is Not So Easy

Love is a charm they told me

Love they promised would be like a holiday on a farm
Love would bring serenity I thought
Love they said would create solace, calm and new energies would be bought

Love brings responsibility I tell them
Love creates complications they didn't know
Love might give birth to you and make you glow
Love will give re-birth to melodrama, unexpected serial arguments, impatience and immaturity
Love will bring along impatience, anger, unwanted emotions and asperity
The saga mysteriously unfolds and is very difficult to handle
People tend to get dizzy
Being in love is a lovable thing
But the thing is not that easy

Being in love I thought would be complementing each other
Being in love I thought would be living your life through someone else's mirror
Rejoicing at the reflection is a rare thing
Being in love is in fact accommodating two in the same mirror
All human beings are different, so are lovers

Love gets difficult when there is doubt
Love gets difficult when there is distrust and things are said in flout
Love gets difficult when expectations overleap donations
When in love, never ever calculate, never ever estimate, never seek victory
For victory lies in just keep giving
Forgive and forget, do not crib and regret
It's only in movies only that things are always breezy and cheesy
For in real life, love is not that easy

Being in love requires patience and communication
It is equally knotty as the friendship between two nations
Easy are the tasks of running away, hating and ignoring
Love needs to ace the difficulty of talking and discussing
Never in love get sleazy
For being in love is not easy

Love needs time
It's not just merry making or just a wind chime
The world is a silly messed up thorny place to live in
The world is not made for just him to be her's and her to be his
At all such times give your lover a break, give some time, be sublime
Ask for time when not given back
Time heals everything, time builds up love and bring things back on track
Love is not a midnight dream
Love is a bridge built over the best understandings of each other's differences
Don't let act them as hindrances, don't allow the bridge to seam
Differences will continue forever, so should the bridge and its beam
Understanding them will put strength in it
Communicating will increase the length of it
Not doing so will leave it like the Colosseum
Doing so will help you see and feel the limitless sky, and vanish the corrosion
But the endless sky is not so easy
For being in love is not that easy

Life is complicated, its essence lies in simplifying it
Let love be the the means to the latter
Let not love be the cause of the former
Do fall in love, the apple 'tastes' and 'feels' sweet
If you can't withstand the desire of falling in love, blame Adam and Eve
Making castles in the air is no crime
But walk together to jointly collect the wreckage when it falls at an unexpected time
The cooperation and eagerness to collect and re-make it will define your love
Not the magnitude of the collection
For making love castles in the air is easy
But being in love is not that easy

Love poems are like paeans they say, and they say it right
For in love, when things once go wrong, hardly go right
They go wrong as being in love is not easy
They go right when love is just love
When deservance falls before desire
When there is equal focus on both your love and your work
When you start realizing and prioritising the importance of both at the same time
When contribution and help precedes individualism and selfishness
When cooperation and coordination pave way for each other's problems in profession and life
When solution to each and everything is taken out by cautiously utilising each other's precious time
Into that heaven of pleasure, let me and our love take refuge and re-awake, and be the sweetest wind chime
All this sounds cheesy and is not so easy
But then, being in love is not that easy

The author can be reached here, here and here. In an essay on Emily Dickinson, the poet Adrienne Rich once wrote, “It is always what is under pressure in us, especially under pressure of concealment—that explodes in poetry.” We live in a time in which little is concealed, and that pressure valve—the one that every writer is intimate with—rarely has a chance to fill and fill to the point of explosion. Literary memoir is born of this explosion. It is born of the powerful need to craft a story out of the chaos of one’s own history. One of literary memoir’s greatest satisfactions—both for writer and reader—is the slow, deliberate making of a story, of making sense, out of randomness and pain. In the inimitable words of Annie Dillard, “You may not let it rip.”

Image from here.