Spread the Love

And the label read,

“Spread the Love.”

I was at a wedding last night and the only thing more beautiful than the unison of two hearts, and of course the food, was the little bottles of jam on each table, instead of wedding cake. It wasn’t the foodie in me that loved the strawberry and passion fruit goodness inside it, nor was it the romantic in me, but the human in me that absolutely loved the label that so simplistically, read,

“Spread the Love.”

As a lover of all things pun-y, I initially giggled to myself at the brilliance of word-play and then wondered, what if it were that easy? To spread love as easily as spreading jam. For in this world plagued with war, disease, corruption and unfortunately, but most prominently — hate, love has become a confused part of speech. Something so misconceived, misused, manipulated, maliciously twisted, and has slowly merged itself with deceit. There doesn’t seem to be a demarcation between love and hate in a world guided by dishonesty and greed, all deep-rooted in hatred. In a society where it’s too lame to be sensitive, we’re too cool to help someone, its effeminate to be kind, its flirting if you’re polite and its degrading if you’re selfless. The adjective now seems to overpower the cause and man has officially become one about the words, and not the good kind. Because as long as your Facebook comment reads, “nice,” it doesn’t mean you really have to be, well, nice. Robotically liking pictures and clicking the share button as we numbly scroll the newsfeed has evolved to be our method of expression. Gone are the days you’d see her in school and tell her she looked beautiful, “I mean, I liked her profile picture what more does she expect?” It seems that people have moved away from home-made jam and to HTTP cookies.

You don’t realise the impact you make on someone’s life until its too late to either smile about it or rectify it. Its up to you to determine whether you will be the one who makes them want to take their life, or live it. This doesn’t even mean you have to go out of your way to buy a stranger a buth (rice) packet from the Sen-Saal on the other side of the street, or visit a friend on the opposite side of the country after her break-up. It means that you should look to seizing every opportunity to be kind. Next time you see a beggar, smile at them maybe, it could be their make or break that rainy evening. You don’t necessarily have to give them any money, if you have time, try asking them who their favourite cricketer is, if they like Jothipala or prefer Amaradeva, because Humans of wherever you are in the world, can only reach so many people, so be your own Human. Maybe, take 2 minutes to ask the aunty on the bus what grade her children are in and if they’re mischievous, consider telling the seeya (elderly man) standing in the queue in front of you that his sarong makes him look only slightly older than 22. Whisper to the little girl in her ballet outfit that being a princess is possible only if your smile is as wide as a hangar, and fan-girl at the boy who loves art class that “girls dig precise brush strokes and a killer abstract piece” and maybe ask the solemn uncle on the bench where he goes to gym. So even if its a stranger behind you in the queue at the buffet, when you serve yourself some jam, you should offer to serve them some too, and that is how jam is spread right.

The jam-spreading isn’t limited to brunches and buffets but extends also to breakfast at home on a Sunday morning. When ammi (mother) and thaththi (father) ask you why you were distracted in class today, try telling them it was because you were thinking about how much you love them, and when aiyya (older brother) scolds you about “still not having a shower”, look at him with your big brown puppy eyes and tell him its because you’re busy working hard to be as awesome as he is.

These are all instances that could have been met with hate. Ignoring a beggar’s sorrowful frown, sitting as far away from the stranger on the bus, refraining from having any eye contact with the man in front of you, rolling your eyes at the little girl “misbehaving”, laughing at the boy whose only A grade is in art, scolding ammi and thaththi for not understanding how tired you are, yelling at aiyya for telling you what to do and overall just being discontented with yourself and everyone around you.

You eventually proceed to be a grump-us for the next few days, not being productive, blaming the world and dramatically screeching “WHY ME?!” and then being blamed for being a typical unappreciative teenager with raging hormones because you’ve upsetted everyone in the house and this becomes a spiral. Thaththi yells at Ajith at work, Ajith yells at his son Lahiru, Lahiru yells at his teacher Mrs. Nanayakkara, she yells at her husband Mr Nanayakkara, and you see where this is going.

You see how a little bit of love can change someone’s whole day.

Its not just the long queue of people at the breakfast buffet that need jam, nor is it only your family on Sunday morning’s but its yourself as well. There’s no point serving the whole of Colombo some jam, with barely any left for yourself and that’s the rookie-jam-serving mistake. Now I’m not urging a put-yourself-first lifestyle where the “butter knife will be mine no matter what the circumstance is”, but a love-yourself-first lifestyle. In order to share jam, you need to have some for yourself first. Love your irritable baby hairs, love your chubby cheeks, love your tummy rolls, love your body and everything it has to offer because more of you only means more jam and even more love. Love your obsession with ’90s nickelodeon cartoons, love the knock knock jokes you enjoy telling, love the crocs you wear for any occasion, love the way you look in those shorts and just, love yourself.

But this isn’t even just about making individuals or yourself happy, its much bigger than that.

Its about war, terrorism, discrimination, fascism, abuse, because if someone had just told Hitler not to give up that someday his paintings would sell, or that his grades would be better if he just focussed a bit more, 6 million Jews might just have been alive today. If I hadn’t yelled at thaththi, Lahiru’s teacher wouldn’t have gotten abused that night for yelling at her husband. Because we’re not born with hatred embedded within us, we’re greeted into this world with smiles and its only fair that we return them, if not reciprocating, initiating. And this is why spreading love and positivity as much as you spread jam is important. We don’t see the bigger picture until its far too late and the world is one big concentration camp, so try make as many people smile a day. Alongside your goals of Doctor rates and 6-figure salaries, maybe you should add this. So that wherever you go, whoever you see, you’ll try. You’ll offer some jam, and you never know, you might just have prevented a genocide.

I’m not going to lie to you, there are going to be certain people and particular circumstances where you just want to exert your knowledge of swear words in every language you know or just even punch the dude. But your reaction is what makes the difference in the world. You laughing when someone tells you that you didn’t deserve an achievement, you posing with the widest smile when someone tells you that you’re too “fat” to wear something so tight, you swinging your arms and moving your feet even faster when someone smirks at your off-beat dancing. And doing the same for others. Don’t idly stand by as she gets bullied about her weight, don’t look the other way when he’s told that he talks like a girl, don’t laugh along when they boo him off the dance floor. Be the person you would want to live for. Be the person whose reference is a deep sigh and head tilt followed by “kochchara hondha kellek de?” (what a lovely girl) rather than, “eyava genna epa magey rotti kanna meh gedarata.” (don’t bring her to have my rotti (indian bread) to this household again.”

Be the person who is the maker-of-all-days and is more of a memory than just the guy you met the other day, influence for the better. Make sure your legacy is for spreading love, not obstructing it. And don’t let anyone come to you without leaving happier, feeling more loved, and of course, with a little more jam in their life.

So, I guess spreading love is as easy as spreading jam and we don’t need a veto in the Security Council to save the world, just a kind heart and some kind words. So ladies and gentleman, spread love, spread love as lavishly as possible, cover every inch of the the bread slice that is your world and don’t be stingy with it. Use your words, your smile, as frequent as you do the butter knife and paint the world with jam, with kindness, with love.

So here I am begging you, to return from the era of web cookies to a time of lavishly spreading jam. Next time you really like the shoes she’s wearing tell her, if you love the song the guy on the bus was humming, hum along, cheer on the doctor who jogs near your school every morning, smile at the lady selling naarang (mandarin) on the top of the road. And next time you see me, tell me the joke you thought was funny but no one else thought was and I’ll tell you my timeless pun about the red car and the traffic jam.

Spreading the love,

Yours Jam-ly,

Ashanee Kottage

❤