Love. Such an abused word. Amidst the tumult of today; global financial crisis’, earthquakes, revolutions, tsunamis of change, consumers, at the behest of retailers, scurry about buying pricey roses and chocolates, buying into the farce that is Valentine’s Day, which has little to do with love and everything to do with profit.
It would seem that love is about possession, control, power. I think of the Shafia murders, those poor Shafia women, their tragic fate, the girls’ teenaged Romeo and Juliet sagas. Did Mohammad Shafia ever truly love his daughters? His wife, wives? Or his son for that matter, grooming Hamed to be an assasin, condemning him to perdition.
Falling in love is easy, romantic love a relatively recent notion, an indulgence, a hormonal shallow-pool love by rote. To love is hard, abiding love rare. We need empathy. We need to love life. Humanity. All of humanity, ourselves included. Love is not a means to an end. Love is here and now. In the deep end. Dare I say it? Love is pure. Love is brave. Instead, floundering, we demand, command, spouses and children mere extensions, collected, objectified to death. I won’t resort to statistics but women die due to domestic violence at an alarming rate in this country. In the West. Love is not a given and screw this blood-is-thicker-than-water drek. Is there a more bitter hatred or intense rivalry than that which surfaces within the family? The home? Let us try at least to love beyond hearts and flowers, beyond tragedy, coupling, clinging, fear.
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none. William Shakespeare.