Picture this: A group of 40 something friends meeting for a weekend – perhaps the Valentine’s weekend. They stay up till 5 am chatting, dance at the airport, go to a temple to express gratitude for 25 years of friendship. They meditate together, and scream-sing in the car; cry over their khao sueys in a restaurant and feel very good about life. They know they have got each other. It’s a lot like it was when they were 18. Except for the dancing at the airport.
One more thing they do (despite some grumbles and a strong case for watching a shorter film) is watch a Hindi movie that should be past its shelf life but instead transports them back to when they were dreamy fools, who thought love was the answer.
I was 13 when I watched Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge. Let that be the beginning of both my defence and my love story.
I was even younger when I first saw Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak or read Nancy Drew as much for the mystery as for what would happen with Ned and Nancy. The Sweet Valley High series was adult drama wrapped up in sweet pink. These were worlds removed from my middle-class life where girls hung out with girls. Of course, if you had a boyfriend it felt illicit and had to be hidden from your family. So the idea of romance was always an escape — maybe a rebellion, an assertion of, or experiment with, your individual identity as something distinct from your family identity. Popular culture gave us permission to be difficult, challenging, defiant — if it was love that was the motivator.
Perhaps we confused love for independence with a love for romance. Perhaps every young woman who dreams of love is actually dreaming of being seen, being heard, being herself.
bell hooks describes love as “the will to extend ourselves for nurturing the spiritual growth of another”. In romances, people struggle with the painful, discordant notes that come from challenging themselves into changing, into being better or stronger, for the sake of another. When they do that, they surmount the obstacles and get their happily ever after. But love is also about accepting and loving oneself while in love.
So when today, I sigh about a character being told they are needed, that they are loved unconditionally, that their needs are important and will be met, and that the little inconsequential things that define us are seen and appreciated, the books and movies remind me that I’m not the only one with these yearnings. Love is an everlasting need. But now the stories tell me that the work of nurturing one’s spiritual growth is ongoing, the work is mine, but the work is the love story.
And that yes, love is still the answer.
It’s just that I need to be my own Raj. Or of course, do a quick weekend with friends to remember that Raj might just be the girl doing Bollywood Zumba with me.
Singhee is an author, beliefs coach and leadership facilitator
