#he also had this rather disturbing infatuation with one of our teachers. like he even engraved a heart-shaped keychain with her name on it

[deus-ex-mona]

ok but real talk

w h o is this guy? what is his name? what does he d o? is he the token skrunkly of gen 3?

either way he looks like weaksauce. i bet i could take him in a fight e a s y p e a s y

[boglog]

Soooo I'm gna get mauled here but tumblr's unquestioning praise of Killing Eve as a progressive, prestige show about womanhood and sexuality is... looking like a problem to me.

This is not to shame people who watch the show or even to guilt people out of enjoying it, especially seeing as I've done both, (unabashedly admiring Phoebe Waller Bridge's distinctly quirky humour and Fiona Shaw's deliveries). This is to say, though, that the Killing Eve franchise is something to think more critically about before we give it more praise, more money. We can be critical of media we like, not limit activism to media criticism and not feel that media criticism in some way robs us of something. In my opinion.

[tw for discussions on sex, rape, pedophilia, violence, death, q slur]

[[more]] <---more --!>

Firstly the generation-wide age gap: Eve's original portrayal in the book is 24, exactly two years Villanelle's senior so the only logical excuse for it be added in the adaptation was bc the crew were desperate for big name actors. And while I love Sandra Oh, it was not worth it to create bizarre sexual tension between a forty year old and a twenty year old. This isn't even the first time Jodie Comer was the on-screen love interest to a middle aged person (see also Dr Foster), which is doubly messed up. Ideally replace Oh with an actor Comer's peer or replace Comer w someone Oh's age. It's not that hard.

Second, the age gap is exasperated by Villanelle's "mental age" which is far below twenty. Honestly the fact that both these problems were added into the adaptation by female actor/writer Phoebe Waller-Bridge makes me wna scream. Book!Villanelle was appropriately mature enough—emotionally, psychologically, intellectually—to warrant her high-ranking status as an assassin. Her behaviour, while still devoid of empathy, manages to be a believable portrayal of an upper-class 20 yr o behaving like a thirty year-old. Phoebe Waller-Bridge (and co)'s reinterpretation has Villanelle being a hyperfeminine, materialist, petty teenager that slowly spirals into impulsive outbursts and a scene where she's crawling around a suburb in a onesie. How do we reconcile Villanelle's lust and her love of violence with this childish persona? How is Eve's attraction to her justified? How do ppl think that's hot? It's comedic shock value flirting with homophobia, pedophilia, and the Born Sexy Yesterday trope. Not to mention the violent little girl trope. Despite all of Luke Jennings' flaws, he at least did not do That and my God is the bar low.

Both book and show heavily overplay Villanelle's sexual promiscuity to the point of being voyeuristic. Villanelle's sociopathy is largely an excuse for her violence, sex life, and lack of empathy to be over-the-top, even comedic, especially in the show adaptation. Villanelle's only true human connection is her infatuation with her language teacher, Anna. Which, rather than explore the show's pedophilic undertones, only serves to justify it via backstory.

The show does handle this way worse though: through Anna's dialogue, we're assured that the attraction was mutual ("She seduced me.") and that they've had sex. Which at the time would be when Oxana (Oksana) was in her late teens as she was still a high school student under Anna's tutelage. In the show, Villanelle murders Anna's husband partially out of revenge and possibly bc she took Anna's joke too literally. Book!Villanelle meanwhile castrates Anna's rapist. The former attempts to draw parallels between Eve and Anna, Nico and Anna's husband, treating the story like a melodramatic Shakespearean love triangle while once more reminding us of Villanelle's immature social skills. Which, again, serves to justify age gap lust. Meanwhile, the book attempts to question Villanelle's warped attempts at human connection via vignettes of violent shock value, it's marginally better than the adaptation but in the overall scheme of things I'm not sure Jennings makes enough commentary on violence against women to warrant this.

Finally sexuality in the franchise is a big question mark. Eve and Villanelle's attraction to each other is explained simply by obsession and lust intermingled with violence. Villanelle and Anna's relationship devolves into much the same in the show. Eve and Nico have a relatively stable yet dispassionate relationship meanwhile Bill is implied to be bisexual with an open marriage, though this is never seen and he's murdered shortly after this confession. A Chinese politician has a hospital fetish and, in the book, a right-wing fascist has a kin/kink for Eva Braun which leads us to a highly disturbing transphobic scene involving an exploding dildo. Notably, Villanelle's on/off frenemy romance with Lara (who is... you know... her age) in the book is cut and replaced Nadia, whom she basically kills as soon as possible.

The relationship between Oxana and Lara is explored more in the book (and it's post-season 1 sequel) though ultimately, Lara dies and Villanelle can't feel remorse let alone love. Both book and show have Villanelle hooking up with various people but the book goes into painstaking detail about her sexual promiscuity being motivated by her desire to manipulate peole. Clearly, Jennings shows that Villanelle's sex life includes all genders yet with little regard for her intimacy and level of attraction for anyone. She is "bisexual" (or "lesbian") only insofar as actual physical sex is concerned. Emotionally, she is attracted to no one. Which let me just say is a capital y Yikes.

And the cherry on top of course is that the show is getting accused of queerbating due to the heavy marketing a nd WLW undertones despite Sandra Oh's denial of any romance btwn her and Jodie Comer's character. 🙄

All of these play heavily into existing homophobic stereotypes. The predatory lesbian. The hypersexual bisexual. The manipulative, hedonistic, childish, lustful qu**rs, who, having foresaken family values to screw anything and everything, are not emotionally mature enough to be first class citizens. From watching the show and reading the book, the writers play with these "dark" themes with little introspection to how these relate historically to LGBT politics, how their use of sociopathy and age gaps has political and sociological significance. There's little real deconstruction or reflection on gender, sexuality, violence etc to be considered satirical and these aspects are largely thrown in for entertainment's sake.

Jennings and Waller-Bridge have both, respectively, made attempts at thematic critiques of wealth and gender. Neither of which in my opinion saw its theme through enough to be satirical. There's something to be said about how PWB converted Jennings' anti-materialist subtext into "empowering" aspects of literally weaponised feminity (i.e. all of Villanelle's weapons are high-end women's products) almost as a critique of cultural dismissal of femininity and it's association with materialism. PWB seemed to want to create a comedic, empoweringly gendered, spy movie but this theme of weaponised femininity nose dives at Villanelle's immaturity not to mention its superficiality. Weaponised femininity directed at whom? The show seems much more fascinated with Villanelle herself than the fact that she's employed by The Twelve, which obscures the importance of who Villanelle is killing, who Villanelle exerts weaponised feminity against and why. Not to mention the concept of the feral, empowered or weaponised woman has always been positively attributed to white women, which to make a long story short is not new or progressive or empowering.

I'm not too puritanical to understand the use of taboo themes in satire. This is not satire. KE's appeal seems to be the sexualisation of its deuteragonists at the expense of nuanced conversations about sex, violence, and gender. PWB was way more fixated on comedy than I think she should have been, and both creators rely most on shock value than anything else in how they construct what they believe be the most entertaining and well-structured narrative. There's little evidence that they regard the responsibility they have in portraying bisexual women in positions of power, in age gap relationships or as violent characters in a political espionage thriller. This is not satire this is a very eclectic comedy with clumsy homophobic caricatures at best.

Lastly, there are essays on why leftist fixation on "representation" is a symptom of our digital hyperreality and at best will never truly address material problems faced by real people. Big ass metas on tumblr is not necessarily activism and as I'm sure you know the revolution will not be televised. But should show runners and co be rewarded for so called groundbreaking dark comedy that in fact seems to support harmful stereotypes? And goddamnit am I tired of people unironically romanticising Villanelle and Eve. Thank you for listening to my TEDtalk.

[talesofealdancynedom]

The aforementioned beach house deck, before the misty beach

Tale 31: If We Lost The Sea Wives (chapter 5 - Rising Tides  5/5 ) part 7. Stories of Magic Forests

no warings

Hara, Woodwick, Dominique, and Dragon Princess Fleogenan, arrived late in the afternoon. They had just taken a long and exhausting train ride to Isfisceard, from The Grand West. So many trains, transfers and ferries; Just to get to this isolated magic island. The family beach house was near the train station, on the road leading into Isfisceard’s village area. The place was quaint as ever, and the local academy was much smaller than Pepperidge’s, where Hara now worked. It made him feel warm, and he couldn’t help but passionately describe his home to Fleog.

Though Saturn was enjoying retirement, his best days were still the ones where he was hugged by his grandson. The beach house had room enough for Fleog and Hara, but Dominique and Woodwick stayed in an inn by the coast. Saturn was pleasantly surprised to see Dominique, his first grad student, looking youthful as ever; And finally requiting Woodwick’s infatuation. She had been sharing an annual bath with Woodwick, as fountain nymphs do, to keep their true loves forever. It simply warmed Saturn heart. Both Hara and Woodwick had found true loves; And Saturn’s heart beated with ease knowing it. One true love, is something both rare and everywhere it seemed. But everything was starting to change when, Hara began sharing his research at dinner.

“The school teaches mages like me now, Grandpa. My prime student is no exception. Pepperidge’s best young seer, saw that Woodwick was a fountain nymph instantly! He’s an avid naiad enthusiast, and historian. The boy suggested I use royal fey, to make the magic forest a conservation and heritage site.” Hara began. “So, when it came to showing the human side of fey, and the value of Pepperidge, the power of empathy was the way to go. I even published your notes on Woodwick! He had fooled the entire magic community, as the best transmutation teacher in the land. Lost his job though; But me and Dominique hope our efforts can get him reinstated by next semester.” He chimed. Dominique was principal of the academy, and looked uneased by the rant. Everyone felt disturbed by hearing that Woodwick being a fey, was leaked.

“Hara. Why would you do that? Those were kept in the library archives for a reason. I trusted you with those! Now Woodwick lost his job and identity, which I worked hard to give him. Domanique got her familiar killed for covering it up; And almost lost her job as well!” Saturn snapped, standing up. “Can you imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten Pepperidge legally protected? I’m proud of your success, but disappointed in your lack of care.” He yelled. It took everyone aback. Saturn was normally calm and content. Everyone held him in high regard, as an elder, father, grandfather, and mentor. The air began the thicken and sink, as Saturn’s rage bubbled up. Hara was in near tears, as he believed that publishing his beloved grandpa’s research, was an inedible good. He couldn’t stand knowing he had disappointed someone so important to him. When Hara imagined coming home, he expected a more merry ruinion.

“But its ok now…” Woodwick said, trying to settle the tension. The atmosphere was scaring him; Fey can be driven by fear, as it is on of the emotions they share with all living things. Woodwick had already accepted the matter, and hoped to comfort everyone with that fact. But Hara looked like he was about to cry, and Fleog could not read the room; She looked around in confusion, while beginning to worry. Electra kept eating, as Jasper just stared at Woodwick, as his face cycled through the stages of grief in under a minute. Dominque, however, looked away and stayed quiet. Saturn then took his seat.

              Fey are magic, know magic omnisciently, and sense it’s flow and presence. They were made of it, and came from the shadow veil which is formed by it. Any source of magic reminded them of home, and their parents the King and Queen of their fey kingdom. Other fey are like siblings or cousins, and royal fey like big brothers and sisters. That is how they perceive family. That is how fey understand magic. Thus, it is also how they tell if humans can use magic, are mages, or even if they are enfeyed with one of their kin. The flow and feel of the magic on a human, or enchanted object, is a dead give away. They can immediately identify another fey in seconds.

Electra, raised human, did not understand what her feyness was sensing; Thus, Electra could tell Woodwick was a fey, but didn’t care. Some trees talked, some said nothing, and some people felt distant, and others homey. It was normal to her. Like Saturn, it all blurred together. She did not react. Woodwick on the other hand, is still a fey capable of spotting the difference. Thus, Saturn wasn’t the only one who knew Electra was a selkie. The whole time. Since they were discussing truth, and fairies have no tact, Woodwick decided to toss his chips into the pile, to back Hara.

“You make a big deal over some old research, that helped a good cause, and insult your grandson. I understand why you covered for me, when people would pay to own me. I would never have the wonderful life I do, if people knew the truth. But why do you lie about your daughter? What terrible thing would happen if everyone knew she was a selkie? Northland men marry and fall in love with fish fey all the time; Jasper is just bonkers for her!” Woodwick prompted. Jasper started chocking on his food, as Hara stared into middle distance. Saturn tensed, while sinking into his seat. Electra patted Jaspers back to help him recover. There are many ways to react to reality.

“Oh. That’s interesting.” Electra said calmly. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t say anything, Woodwick; Because there are no reproductions?” She smiled. Electra then gave a squishy selkie cuddle to her husband.  Oddly, Jasper had become outraged, just as Saturn. No one thought he had it in him.

“Saturn, why? Why would you? Do you fancy trapping fey to make your family? You’d rather lie to keep Elektra from being herself, then lose her to the sea? Are you a coward like the other men, who trap their selkies on land? Is her mother off somewhere too? Woodwick, sure; Nymphs can live happy around humans, and I’d say it was a good choice. But your daughter? She could be suffering away from the sea, and I unwittingly got in a true love relationship with a fey! I trusted you! My wife is not human; At least the other lads get to know before they kiss! You took advantage of my eagerness of my heart, over my head.” Jasper ranted. “Saturn, give her coat back! It belongs to her! I refuse to be another man, holding such a precious fey against her will.” Jasper demanded. Elektra looked confused; Coat? I have another coat, aside from my pink trench?

“But Jasper, I have all my coats in the closet…” Electra said, quietly. Tugging him back into his seat gently.

              Imagine three men, scrambling up a tiny staircase, to get to a locked bedroom, with a locked trunk, to fetch a McGuffin. Tearing each other down, yelling insults, and acting more like beasts then people. Dominque cleaned up the dishes with protest, while all the fey sat at the table, talking merrily about sand. Dominique started to sing for them, to keep them calm; One was a royal dragon after all. The conflict arose as Saturn wanted Elektra to stay his daughter, Jasper wanted to give her freedom, and Hara wanted his father and grandpa to calm down for a minute, and not hurt each other. Whoever possessed the pelt, had the power. After ten minutes of yelling in the attic, Electra looked into the sea. She knew exactly what a selkie was, what humans did to them, and what magic they held. Which is honestly not much aside from exquisite radiance, gullibility, passivity, and swimming skills; Maybe also talents in singing and collecting nautical memorabilia. Elektra looked around the cottage. It was built to be closer to fey, by a man who made her fish pie, and decorated it with chimes made from the shells she collected. With her coat, Electra could go to the shadow veil to meet her selkie mother, her Fish King Mother, and Fish Queen father. She could wander all the seas of the day veil, if she wished. The sea did seem enchanting, luring, and beautiful. Electra got up, and calmly went upstairs.

              Jasper had possession of the coat. When Electra came in, the men were silent. Her father went pale seeing her, and Hara was sobbing. Electra was so confused. Jasper ran up to her, and shoved the soft cream and copper ross selkie skin, into her arms.

“This belongs to you, my love,” He cried. “Take it.”

“NO.” Saturn exclaimed, lunging forward. Hara immediately tackled him, then started profusely apologizing. Electra felt the soft fur, smelled it, and examined it. It looked like a big fur coat, made from plush seal skin. She put it on. Saturn started uncontrollably sobbing, at the thought of never seeing her again; Like he was burying a child.

“I’m sorry, Electra! Please don’t go. Please-” Saturn sobbed.

“I have so little respect for you, grandpa! Not even for the lying. You’re being an idiot, and acting like a child.” Hara said. Electra went downstairs, and her husband, father, and son, followed her. She calmly walked to the sea edge of the ocean. Dominique slammed the screen door, leaving the three men watching Electra gaze into the foggy evening sea. She took a deep breath. The sea always had a low hum to her, and the voices of her sisters were as beautiful as ever. Behind the screen, Hara watched his father and grandfather, throw away their dignity, as they started uncontrollably crying and banging the glass. The palpable regret, love, and fear, was touching. Hara, this whole time, had no opinion. Like his mother, and as a mage, it was all the same to him. He literally did not care that his mother was a selkie. Like he was satisfied with an answer, which explained a lot about his mothers’ behaviour. He felt really bad for his patriarchs. They couldn’t just go to the shadow veil like him, and ask the Fish King where Electra was. To a common folk, watching a fey leave, is a final goodbye.

              The screen door opened, and Electra walked in and put her fur on the coat rack, then sat back down at the table and poured herself tea. In a state of comfort induced by the home, Woodwick had been brewing tea in the background. Electra was humming a soft cheerful tune. Hara went to join the fey at the table with Dominique.

“Really, Electra? The coat rack! That’s no place for an enchanted lifeline!” Jasper said.

“Why didn’t you just go? Your whole life was a lie, and I was so scared. You don’t have to stay anymore. Not for me or anyone. Worse, I know fey don’t feel hate, and you forgive us regardless. If you choose to leave, it is less then I deserve. I just love you so much.” Saturn said. Everyone waited in silence, waiting for Electra’s response.

“I like my life better then being alone in the ocean. That fur is pretty, and really soft, but I don’t think I need it for anything other then resealing. Wait is that the right word….” Electra said, drinking her tea. Saturn sat on the nearest chair, gasping. Jasper ran over to hug his wife. The bitter and comforting smell of tea, was filling the room. Nothing had changed. Electra didn’t care about the ocean. Skin or not, she still swam, cuddled, collected, sang, and hung around her favourite humans.

Leave or stay, nothing would change but Electra’s company. Saturn felt like a fool. The backlash lasted all of an hour; For a lie that worried him for over thirty years. While everyone enjoyed tea, he sat by the window, in disbelief. He felt so relieved, yet also embarrassed. The urge to grab the coat, and put it away still strong. Then, Hara sat next to him, and offered a ceramic mug of tea, that was blacker than the abyss.

“That was dumb. Mom would never leave, just like Woodwick’s not going anywhere due to life you gave him. Besides, you should have known selkies are too stupid to leave the men they love. Honestly, this answers a lot of questions. Father might take a while to process his life though… He’s really not a thinker, is her?” Hara said.

“You have no opinions? You’re not scared of loosing your mother, or seeing your family broken?”

“I am. It just wont effect me as much as a mage. Who it really hurts, is you. I can’t imagine the anxiety you put with every day, for a meaningless lie. Mother loves us, and wouldn’t leave, and I knew it. The fondness fey get for humans, can be incredibly binding in my experience. No one is going to judge you for having a sea daughter, sea wife, or adopting a fairy. Magic is everywhere, that thing is kind is normal in Isfisceard. I mean, I married a dragon princess, and no one cared.”

“Imagine Hara, what the Northlands would be like if the fish kingdom disappeared. Your mother, grandmother, and so many daughters and wives gone. It’s sad, and scary. What if we lost all the sea wives? What if y heart breaks again in my life-time.”

“We would grieve, like people do when they lose someone. Then my student Rah who is Queen in waiting, to crown Fish Prince Broc, would be the new Fish King; And restore the sea fey to our Northland shores. Even if the fey we loved will never be replaced.” Hara smiled. Saturn grimaced; Woodwick had made the tea too strong. Then he paused and turned to Hara. He hugged him, like they would never meet again. Hara may not have full selkie squish, but he felt just as good to hold.

“You are right Hara. I am an idiot. I guess I had too much pride and fear. Or had my heart above my head. To think, when I was a younger man, I feared the being the exact thing I’ve become.”

TABLE OF CONTENTS--->

<---PREVIOUS

[infinitheismworld]

Are you Starved for Love

Begging for love makes you more of a beggar.  If you are starved for love, it is not because enough people do not love you but because you are not expressing your love to enough people.  Starvation of love does not cease by receiving love, but ceases only by giving love.

If you are starved for love, it is not because enough people do not love you but because you are not expressing your love to enough people.

There is a lady in every home, who wakes up earlier than the rest of you and sleeps later than all of you.  She does not have casual leave, privilege leave or sick leave.  No holidays and no rest days.

Could you surprise her with a gift of love in this month of Valentine’s Day?

There is an old man in the house, who has been on his feet all his life for the sake of his family, worked and worked and kept working, much after he had earned enough for himself.  A man who ensured in every possible way that each one in the family would have a better standard of life than what he had.

Could you go beyond the curtains of ego you had drawn between him and you, and demonstrate your love for him in unexpected ways in this month of Valentine’s Day?

There must be a teenage boy or girl in your very home, who isn’t sure, whether you are looking at them as a child or as an adult.  Your stance seems to have so much of dual standards, which is so paradoxical to a teenager.

Can you take your daughter/son on a date, take time with them, befriend them and show them in ways that they understand that you care for them, that you love them beyond their comprehension and that they mean everything to you.  Could this be your way of celebrating this month of Valentine’s Day with a difference?

Could you go back to your Alma Mater and meet your teachers who served as a turning point in your life and give them letters of love and gratitude?  In this month of Valentine’s Day, can you make some of the people who created and recreated you feel extra special?

Above all, can you stop being your own enemy and learn to love yourself?  For so many reasons and in so many ways, you stand against yourself, time and again.  Can you become more charitable towards yourself, forgive yourself of your past and accept yourself as you are?  Can a new love affair, where you are the lover and you are also the beloved begin from this month of Valentine’s Day?

Let the usual festivity of Valentine’s Day continue, but shall we also bring an extended meaning to this month of Valentine’s Day?  Let your love cleanse your life and the life of all the people in your influence.

Love is love, only when it respects the feelings of the other.  When we do not recognise the feelings of the other, we make them feel like a thing, a commodity.  You love others, not for who they are; but for what you can be when you are with them.

Others too love you, not for who you are; but for what they can be when they are with you.  By respecting their feelings, you make them feel respected.

Love is an end in itself.  You love because you love, and not for the reciprocation of love.

The child comes home crying having lost his pencil in the school.  What the child needs now is an adult at home, who in some way can make the child feel that his feelings are respected; but what the child gets is an intellectualisation on whether or not crying is appropriate for something so trifle.  The girl cries in the classroom for she has missed her centum in maths by one mark.

What the girl needs right now is some gesture from the teacher or classmates that they understand her feelings; but what she gets is advice on why she should not let small things bother her.  The teenager is interested in someone from the opposite sex.

What he needs is someone in his life who matters to him, who’ll show him that they understand his sentiments and recognise his feelings; but what he gets is someone philosophising on infatuation.  The wife pours her heart out about what she had gone through in the day.

What she needs is the lap of her husband to sob, his shoulders to cry on and a hand that can wipe her tears and say, “I understand darling…” but what she gets is a special executive seminar on human relationship.  Some gestures, some noise and some one-liners keep coming from the aged parents to suggest that they are not feeling okay.

What they need now are eyes that show care, a touch that confirms ‘I am there for you’ and ears willing to empathise with their feelings; but they get a rational explanation on positive attitude.

Love is recognised as Love, only when we respect the feelings of the other.  Whether those feelings are right or wrong, appropriate or inappropriate… is secondary.  Their primary need is to know, ‘Do you respect my feelings?’

Erroneously, out of our love for them, we assume that we should solve whatever they are going through and approach every situation with loads of intelligence.  People will open up to your solutions only if they know that these solutions are coming from people who love them.

And they will recognise that you love them only if they see that you respect their feelings.  Love must feed the heart first before it even attempts to feed the mind.

Starvation of love is in essence starvation of touch.  Love and touch are synonymous.  When the child was in the womb of the mother, he kept experiencing a oneness with his mother only through the sensation of touch.  Much before the child learns to perceive stimuli through the other senses, he recognises the stimulus of touch.

Every time the child cries out of insecurity, some adult holding the child close to his bosom comforts him.  Children grow in the arms, shoulders and the lap of adults.  Hugging is the most intimate of all experiences for a child.  To every child, touch is oneness and this oneness is their primary understanding of love.

However, as children grow, we adults, withdraw ourselves from touching them.  We start relating TO them rather than relating WITH them.  Once we stop touching them, they become touch starved and this makes them love starved.

True, you may be providing them everything materialistically; while the mind of your child will recognise all these so called expressions of love, the heart keeps longing for touch.  After all, it is not by the amount of money or by the quantum of gifts or by the verbosity of language that the heart grew in love and oneness.

It knew oneness only by touch and it grew in love only by touch.  Every adolescent, who has fallen into the ugliness of perversion, is a case of a child who has been rendered touch-starved by the family.

It does not matter whether it is a parent-child relationship or a husband-wife relationship or a brother-sister relationship… unless there is non-sexual touch in a relationship, there may still be a lot of respect in the relationship but the presence of love in that relationship will not be recognised.

If you want to save your children from joining the ‘World Perversion Club’, bring enough non-sexual touch into your relationship.  If you want to bring back the excitement in marriage, bring back enough non-sexual touch into your relationship.

If you want to bring back those intimate days you shared with your parents, bring back enough non-sexual touch into your relationship.  Lean on their shoulders, take them in your lap, hold their hands in yours, place your head on their lap and experience the river of tears that flow once again in love.

If you miss it now, then you will one day touch the dead body and cry your love out; but then it will be too late.  People who cry the loudest at a funeral are usually the ones who did not touch enough the one who died, when that person was alive?

Even the kings, the queens and the legends crave for this touch of love; after all, they too have the same heart of a human being, as yours and as mine.  So, what makes you think that your father or your mother-in-law may be an exception?

Relationship is about communication, but love is about communion; and communion is only possible through touch.  Nothing deepens love like touch, and nothing starves love like touch starvation.

Call out to your loved ones, “I don’t think my empty arms can hold out any longer… come… come to me.”

Apart from respecting the feelings of those you love and practicing enough non-sexual touch in the relationship, ask every day, “How can I, through my expression of love, make someone’s heart blossom today?”  The economics of love is that it fills the heart of both the giver and the receiver.  So, you do not love for reciprocation of love.  “If you love me, then…”  “I know you love mummy, so please…”  “Okay, I will do this for you because I love you, but then…”  These are not expressions of love, but vulgar transactions made in the name of love.

Love transacted is not love at all.  Love should never be a means.  Love is an end in itself.  You love because you love, and not reciprocation of love.

Also remember, if it hurts then there is love in that relationship.  People ask, “Why do people we love hurt us?”  The very question is wrong.  Hurt is a confirmation that there is love in that relationship.  If that comment or gesture was made by a stranger, it would not have even scratched your heart.

The very fact that it has is a confirmation that it has come from someone you love.  Love hurts; if it hurts then it is love.  If we give up love because it hurts, then our alternatives are only loneliness, despair and death.  Who said love is all laughter?  It is tears too.

After all, love can never be either this OR that; it is this AND that.  Love is an all-inclusive package.

Even a small pebble or a blowing wind can disturb the moon’s reflection in the lake.  It shatters into thousands of pieces all over the lake and as the lake settles down, it again appears as the moon.  Actually, the real moon was never disturbed; only its reflection was.

True love is exactly the same.  Hurt is the ripples, but with time, love settles down to confirm that love was, love is and love will be.

The only word big enough to accommodate love is LIFE.  Love is the only gospel needed, for nothing other than love can transform the world.  Nothing is more cleansing than love.  If you miss love, you miss life.

Do not make love the special prerogative of Jesus Christs, Mother Teresas and Buddhas.  Love is neither patented to anyone nor is it the sole property of a few.  If God is love, and God created this existence with the energy of love, and if God created every human being after his own image, then Love is me, Love is you and Love is us.

Let us together build a loving, lovable and lovely world.  It starts with us.