They say Love is Tainted.
A firm rebuttal
And to those, who say, that Love is not pure — For it is ‘tainted’, supposedly by the thorns, the pain, the torture, the sorrow, anguish and despair…! By all those it has claimed… this love, apparently it is tainted by suffering… But!
Consider this a disassociation, a rebuttal, a refutation, a rejection, clear disapproval, a surrejoinder, and a negation!
I shall attempt to make this brief, but it is a statement that has certainly aroused my heart so much so that I am compelled to finally venture out of silence and pen down my weekly piece of poetry or prose…
Alas! Ladies and Gentlemen,
The abstract is:
Love is not tainted… It is pure.
On Suffering and ‘Contamination’ of Love
The principal argument of our dear fellow lover seems to be… that perhaps as common as it is to say that Love is pure… perhaps it is not! Why is it so that it is insinuated that a universal emotion is perhaps NOT what is its intrinsic quality? It is claimed that perhaps… underneath we find a thousand thorns; barrens fit to rival the harshest cracked plains and deserts — That perhaps because every Majnun (مجنون — Maddened Lover — a widely recovering trope of Islamic Love poetry, a trope that certainly manifests itself neatly across all parts of the Islamic world) has to go through such pain and suffering — Such anguish, such forlornity, such a horrifying wonder that they must endure…. says the laymen…
But! The position here is, that perhaps sorrow and horrors, anguish, trials, abject solitude and tribulation is all something that is ‘tainted’…
Perhaps in the world where the Mullah keeps track of his deeds but not his sins, where the Rich and powerful advocate for rights but usurp the rights of those directly under, where one speaks much of something but never acts upon it… wherein we have thousands who are fervent in prayer and debate but ultimately they lack all character… Where the ideology of “Ideally: Maximum pleasure, minimum suffering” is rampant… I can certainly understand how the aforementioned idea can even arise…
(although to the originator’s credit, they are still leagues better than those who have given Love an entirely superficial and manipulative flavour — perhaps directly manipulating the natural impulses of man by appropriating a very pure term in place of their criminal disregard of the sanctity human sentiment and emotions)
Thus! To make the point that suffering and trial is no mere taint upon the Lover’s head but rather… it is his crown… And his throne of thorns is what exalts him… and certainly — To love truly, purely and deeply… One must abdicate all his fixations and reservations for the sake of true devotion.
The madman, blessed be he, who is not fazed by the oppression, violence, disapproval, hatred, disgust, and outright denunciation that he receives from the whole world — and indeed, sometimes even those that he deeply loves… But he is exempt from the rules that make up normalcy… He is not like the others… No… He cannot be. Love is no common malady — And most certainly, to love is to love deeply or not at all… Everything in between ultimately ends up being either a lesson or a fatal discourse.
To bear that torture, to put yourself through it, to embark on a journey and lose all else in it… That, being an almost inseparable part of both Love and Life, to associate, one must certainly agree with and accept the prospects of complete and utterly catastrophic loss (All is to eventually be lost anyway — This is not a permanent abode… )
Indeed, the trials and tribulations one faces throughout a lifetime are what add flavour, experience, depth, and capacity to a human being — As love is ultimately the core and the most intensified form of Life — It is no exemption… And most certainly, we find ourselves observing a mutually exclusive relation between the original statement and the realities of Love… (Genuine Love, that is…)
For the lover, the thousand cuts he suffers and bleeds from… These gushing wounds that might never leave his side… These loyal demons of his who stalk him from the dark, only to torment his conscience as soon as he is confined to solitude…. All of his sufferings, no matter how unappreciated, unnoticed, and decidedly ignored by his Beloved (in loving whom, he can never quite stop or tone down the intensity of his love, madness, and association), ultimately, are the source of his Purification… Yes! All that is not what taints love…. But for the exaltation of any being, we discover that a journey — to travel from one state of affairs to another, is paramount…
The journey of the lover is rife with suffering — and very few of those who love to find that their love might be requited… Such is the horrifying, perhaps tragic, and just as much saddening nature of Love… The only love that is requited for sure, is Divine Love — But like all loves, it demands a test… and surely, a test particularly perturbing…
Conclusion
I need not recant, that the point now stands:
Love is not tainted… Oh lords no… Love is pure, aye! It is pure for those who are pure, who are not scared away nor do they shy away from the horrors that they must face…. It is pure, for it purifies…
He who has loved is certainly he who has truly lived.
So, that was another peculiar discourse of mine. Most of these aren’t very popular and perhaps not very good… That is arguably the truth.
Alas,
If you do, by some miracle, manage to read this far, you can maybe support me and keep me motivated to write… If you’d like, you can chuck a little something my way.
Thanks though,
Nobody really has done that yet, not that I expect it either.
Thanks once more, for reading!
