Adnan Farooqui

Often! We use these words “like and love” in lieu of our expression as say; therefore to convey our feel with respect to the one, whom we are involved or attached emotionally, psychologically or sensitively.
What are these terms, liking, and loving?
Are they synonymous or have their own domain of explanation as mean, though are extensively in our daily impression of expression as interest; or are they in real means variant specie as word with vast denomination in vocabulary of definition.
In my opinion these phrases have diversified dominion.
“Like” is a term that takes off its plight from theme as desire.
It has an attitude that encompasses senses as feel.
It’s a craving dire as desire that weighs things on comparative caliper thus; sorting it in to preference as priority.
This verb as adjective relies completely on feel as perception and is an interpreted and integrated phenomenon of pleasing sensation awarding transient euphoria.
This verb has soothing effect that console mind but immediately vanishes when similar desire with more dominant effect overcome thus perishing the crave by new miscellaneous.
It is a superficial feel with no emotional attachment but; with psychological belief as congruent of console.
Where as on the other hand! Love is an undefined phase of emotional derangement, which completely take over psychological behavior as; reaction, mood, sensation and integrated perception.
It is an undeclared fate as compulsive destiny that routes feeling through the depth of heart without the element of integrated belief as logic.
It is a state of mind which paralyzes senses and takes over rule and reign of perception via a new module of concealed power of heart as autonomy.
This powerful impulsive force has no limits of sight and boundaries as dominion rather it pursues its course through the spectra of self sacrifice for an unknown cause; you may call love.
This is a faith in one’s own thought that pulls individuals mind and soul as possession or preoccupation.
It’s an undeclared war against own thinking mechanic thereby give-up by surrendering even before footing in to the ground hence; announcing the bugle of war as submission.
It is the only legitimate action of human errorless transgression of mind that award its own worthy function of interpretation  to heart as compassion; thereby obeying the same recessive command as interpretation;  vide the melodious signals’ of its beat.
In my opinion; it is the story of submission of will, velocity and thrill in lieu of obsession as passion so to sacrifice sign, signature and soul; in reward and award as honor, of this undefined verb as “love or lunacy”.
“This is very much easy rather within own domain to sort our love as passion.
In my opinion: Simply disregard what you like and you would feel the depth and essence of real love.
Real love lies far behind your integrated feel as perception.
It takes off from crave till its final static flight as completely lunatic under obsession as passion hence handicapped.”

 SOURCE


Farooqu|

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Love is a choice, being asked to submit a case study on the topic; I decided to do some research and try to figure out at what exactly I was working at.




The title is based on a paper back book by authors Dr. Robert Hemfelt, Dr. Frank Minirth and Paul Meier M.D. Having valiantly flipped through the book, I found some enlisted cases to be quite intriguing. The book basically focuses on letting go of unhealthy relationships, be it marriage, relationships, intimate and physical relationships and also cons of codependent relationships.



Why I seem to seem to differ from the authors is that letting go or giving up is not always an option that might yield you the results that you require. In my perspective, letting go is actually acclaiming the fact that you can not cope up with a certain obstacle that life may have hurled in your way and so you tend to give up. In the case of relationships, which are serious for both the partners, sometimes issues and differences evolve, it is only natural, but that does not necessarily mean that you resolve on parting ways.



Although that I must say that I approved of the title, which eventually was made the topic of my study, that yes, love is definitely a choice, although, for some.



In the book I found three cases worthy of proper attention, in the start a case of unhappy marriage is mentioned, where both of the participants are having a hard time living together with each other and see divorce as the only way out. One partner observes, although sarcastically, that death for the other would have please him the most. One such is the case where endings, though how bad they might have to be, are inevitable.



The second case gives us the insight into the bad beginnings of two people, scathed by poverty, but determination leads them into more bountiful endings. The case is not about two people in marriage, it is about their offspring who acquires a raging desire for sexual please, comes close to bringing his matrimonial life to a bad end but does not pay heed to the advice of his parents, naturally the parents get worried about the well-being of their offspring.



The third case, needless to say intrigued me the most, expressed the story of one such individual who did not pay heed to the want of love in one’s life, though having everything a man of conscience could demand for, but solitude had taken its toll on his life. The person had suffered the loss of his mother at an early age, his father, though as rich and aristocratic as one can be, termed him the cause for the series of unfortunate events and banished him under virtue of boarding and apprenticeships. The person comes to the clinic, though half heartedly, not knowing why he was wasting his time to go under treatment when he considered himself not needing any. When asked why did he prefer solitude and did not consider love to be a part of his life he rages and exits the room.



They say no matter how solitude loving a man can get, no matter how he tries to defy the auras of love, there comes a time in his life when he just wants to relax after a day’s long work; he just wants to come home to a hot supper waiting at the table, he wants to relax in his cozy chair while a pair of loving hands hand him a mug of his favorite brand of coffee, he wants to be controlled by a pair of those loving hands, who would not hear a word of resentment and lead him towards the four poster, engulfing him into the fiery depths of passion for the one, forcing his soul to meet his lifeless body as he indulges in the act, which sends cold and frigid shivers of ecstasy up his spine, he would love to be received by wide open arms after when he relives, say he would want to lie in those arms and watch the night slowly fade away.



This is the case with most men, a handsomely paying job, a quiet and discrete life and someone to consummate with. Needless to say that this is been a norm of the world for many centuries and will continue to be for as long as this universe is intact. I ask the question, is it impossible to life a quite life on your own? Is it necessary to have someone who would lovingly gnaw at your earlobes? Is it mandatory to cherish each smile hurled at you, each approving smile that would make your heart rapidly beat, commanding you to throw yourself into pleasure?



I think no, none of this actually completes a man, what does is his own determination, the one weakness that man faces is the opposite sex, which brings him down to such extent that he loses aim; he becomes weak and only thinks of him plus that special someone.



Love is a choice, it can not be forced and it can not be endured when it is forced. Love is a feeling not a commandment. Love is an expression not a constitution. Love is life but not the elixir. Love is a question not the answer. Love is excitement, love is pleasure, love is enchanting, love is undying but it is not the reason. Love is death and the reason for a life worse than death.



Affection and inclination, to me, is one of the basic ground rules of love. It can not be induced, it can although be grown. Hast decisions in these matters always, I must endorse this point, always, leads to confrontations and complications. I give a medieval example for this matter:



In 1814, Jane Austen wrote a letter to her niece, Fanny Knight, who had asked for advice about a serious relationship, telling her that "having written so much on one side of the question, I shall now turn around; entreat you not to commit yourself farther, not to think of accepting him unless you really do like him. Anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without Affection".



Jane Austen, a popular novel wright of the eighteenth century, has impeccably and inquisitively expressed the whole dilemma in a nutshell. “Anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without Affection” I completely and fully endorse this statement. If one is to love, it has to be whole heartedly, it can not be just for the sake of passing ones time, it can not be the result of entering your twilight years, yet it has to be that sentiment, it has to be that emotion, which strikes you at whatever age at life, be it maturity or adolescence, it has to have such possessive strength, such scent, such aura, which engulfs the person from head to foot in a burning sensation, one that is enough to make him endure the toughest of situations throughout all his life whether he has to do it alone.



For those who succumbed to the hostilities of love, love is unquestionably a choice. It is not impossible to live only with the memories and thoughts of the one loved, rather than finding someone else just to momentarily stop the bruises from pain any further. For one true lover, one such thought is enough to stop him from loving someone else, when he pictures being passionate with someone else while the thought of the one he originally loved and will never cease to love looms in front of his eyes, it is not only doing injustice to the other person, but it is actually acclaiming your own defeat, your own defeat at losing someone and then trying to compensate for the damage by playing with someone else’s life. It is not mandatory to do such a thing, for love is a choice.






Farooqu|

I lie here hopelessly, the dark silent depths of my room consume of whatever soul is left inside me. I can sense a melancholy stillness in the room as though a soul as been ripped apart from its body, leaving behind nothing but a sad, emotionless sculpture of clay. My mind as always, is preoccupied with the thoughts and memories of the time spent with her. I haven’t noticed that the moisture I feel is due to the tears rolling down, so silently that I too am unaware. Not wanting to open my eyes, fearing sighting the lights as dawn breaks. Behind closed eyes, I see your face, beautiful and angelic as ever. A smile plays across my lips as I remember that I am fighting for a lost cause. My amusement at the realization of my own defeat is a mystery to me, why I can’t seem to feel pain while watching the love of my life slipping through my own fingers? Maybe it’s because of the fact that my love has not turned me into a selfish and demanding creature, maybe my love wants me to out my self at pain and agony just to see someone happy, or maybe it is because of the fact that I have faced so much pain, so much has been taken away from me that I don’t seem to be bothered if the meaning of my life is snatched away from me. Fact is to feel pain for loss, you have to have something first, I never had the love I imagined and maybe that is the reason behind me feeing happy at my own defeat.

I try to open my eyes, I shield them as my eyes have difficulty in being accustomed to the light, I do not know how late it is in the morning, I wasn’t able to sleep the night before, I look out of the window and try to figure out. I notice the gentle splatter of rain drops on the roof above, creating such sounds as if an orchestra maestro showing off his skills and that explains that uncanny dark sky outside. I sigh heavily because rain wouldn’t help uplift my mood. Bad memories from the past are attached to it, every time something bad has happened, it has always rained, be it before or after, and today it brings the feeling that I might ultimately lose the love my life and the reason for me staying alive will altogether be gone.

My mind is still groggy, even though I didn’t sleep; I was sort of in an unconscious state. I turn sides as I reach out for my cell, I squint at the screen as my eyes try to find something that I’ve internally been wishing for, disappointed, I let it fall down next to me. I start looking around my room, hating every bit of it from the core of my heart; these walls bring nothing but solitude and perseverance, as if I am being punished for bad deeds of my past life. My eye catches something red stuck to my arm, I see half of my left hand red with clotted blood and I could see fresh blood glistening under those deep cuts, I try to recall when and why did I actually did this to myself, having no memory of it, I let my arm slide down. The gentle trickle of blood from the cuts sends cold shivers of pain up my spine, I, loving every ounce of pain that I could achieve, let it flow. I know that going through this whole lifetime without the one I love is going to be excruciating for me, the pain that I will have to endure will be nowhere as close to what I feel now, so I try to accustom myself to the sense of pain, pain that threatens to take away my life.


I lift up my head to get a glimpse; light breaks the silent depths of my room, half of it being blocked by my partially closed window. I raise a hand to wipe my face, still lost in deep thought I pick up my pen and start to write whatever that is circulating inside my mind and making half of me go insane. Words have always been a magnificent source of expression for me, I knew the only way I could beat the pain and despair of this moment was to write something that could portray my thoughts without leaving a trace of remorse inside me. I write my first few words, taking a moment to smile at the name written in my thin slant, almost a sense of being reborn and being thrown back in to the fiery depths of love. I think for a moment what to write, the whole morning I could not keep myself from admiring the flawless beauty that had captivated my mind, but the words do not tend to flow. I go over it in my head once more. I close my eyes and her face looms in front of me, the depth of her eyes deeper than any ocean, the spark in her eyes enough to make the brightest of thunder flashes shy, the glow of her angelic face not even comparable to the nights of the full moon, the curls of her lashes concealing the light from eyes like a total eclipse, her voice sweet and melodic, unlike any sound ever heard of, her laughter ever so rhythmic. The long hair, darker than any pitch black night, dance joyfully in the blowing air, giving a sense of twilight approaching in the darkest of hopeless nights.

It is just like one of those moments when I am completely lost in thought, having no sense of my own presence, a moment that never ends. Every passing second etches the memories deeper in my mind, making me prone to succumb to my own thoughts. It would not be an exaggeration to tell her that if I collected a flower for every time I thought of her, I could wander in my own garden forever.


I open my eyes and look at the piece of paper; damp blotches seemed to have materialized on it, smiling to myself I tear it apart knowing that I would not be able to write anyway. I wipe my tears, laughing silently at my own weak state. I hear the familiar tone of my cell; hear it as if I am standing at the end of a long tunnel, broken from my thoughts of her, I reach out for it, I grin as I read her name comes up on my screen, loving her ever so perfect timing, my head falls back to the pillow as I press it to my ear, and stop myself from saying, I Love You.

*Excerpt from an adapted screenplay by me.

Farooqu|

*Post contains mild language. Read at your own discretion

A simple and commonly used word of the English language, though many meanings can be derived from this word and indeed this word can be used differently for different types of situations. One meaning under consideration here, defines betrayal as to disappoint the hopes or expectations of; be disloyal to. Having read this, I am sure you must have an idea about what I am going to be bragging about in the next few (more than few) lines.


Mostly people in today’s society suffer from betrayal at the hands of their business partners, their colleagues, and their classmate or so called friends. Though some betrayals having lesser consequences than the others. Take for example major share holders in a big multinational organization. Investors are lulled in to a false sense of security; they are flattered and showed dreams of making billions out of just mere millions. Happens what? They invest, the head of the organization takes off with the investors money, leaving them stone fucked in the middle of wall street with no where to go. That is I suppose one of the worst kinds of betrayal a man can come across during his life time.

Trust is, I think, the worst decision one can make in his life time, trust me (no, literally! Come on just for the sake of the article) I speak from personal experience, entrusting someone with your secrets, with your thoughts, with your insecurities, with your emotions, with your belongings and with every thing you have, lands you in such a pit where you are ruthlessly fucked by alligators. (no kidding).

People tend to gain your trust, such people I believe are the root cause of the annihilation of modern society, then they take away everything you have, with such simplicity and ease that for one split second, you are sure to grab your head and call yourself a fucking idiot. Try to imagine, your insurance company tells you that they will be always ready to provide you the claim not only because you are paying a ridiculously high premium but because they “care for you”. Frankly speaking, nobody believes in this sweet shit of the insurance companies any way, but taking in account some half minded millionaire who has nothing but money to spend, gets robbed and then the insurance company shows him a clause in the agreement that says something as shitty as the policy does not cover ignorance of the state police. Now who the hell would have though they could do that? No one! That is why that is called betrayal and not just plain fucking for the sake of it.

Enough with the corporate examples lets turn our attention towards a topic more targeted towards the society. Take for instance your average girlfriend. A very nice hot piece of ass, half of your college wants to do her in public and the other half as already done it. (With you not knowing of course). Well everybody knows nobody is honest these days, exceptions are in the case of mentally retarded ex army assholes, big landlords, impotent so called guys, villagers and peasants. The girl knows that the boy wants to fuck her, and then dump her for another; fresher and plumper piece of ass and boy knows that the girl wants to empty his wallet and find someone with a bigger wallet, so he basically speeds up the fucking process. The question you may be asking is that where does betrayal fit in this whole scenario where fucking each others brains out is the only motive to be achieved. Well my lovely half brained readers, betrayal is the by product of those lies and promises made just for passing half an hour while your favorite slut wacks you off under the wheel of your shiny new car, or the product of the time when you are being groped from behind and texting with one hand to the cell and the other to the….. well you understand. Though I must endorse this fact that the chances of these types of things happening in our society are comparatively lesser, I just tend to give a broader view on many different issues throughout this global village.

That my friends, is the true betrayal. One may not know that the other person they are being so damn flirtatious with, may be interpreting the wrong signals and instead of just fucking you, they leave you with nine months of sheer pain. (I don’t feel the need of explaining that phenomena). Then you cling to the word of betrayal while you attend the Jerry Springer show and they try to find out they guy behind your humongously (that aint a word, I know that) large belly.

I now give you the conclusion, and that is trust no one, except, EXCEPT, you are damn sure that the other person would rather die than betray you, and make sure that nothing of this sort has just been expressed in words, learn to read the people that surround you, try to deduce from their promises that what would they actually do to you if they ever found a chance of gaining benefit from putting you in pain. You can also trust someone, of whom you control each and everything, because that person knows they are going to be gigantically fucked if they ever try to deceive you.

Peace out homies.



Farooqu|