To love but to not belong is heart-breaking . To belong to people we don ’ t love is gut-wrenching .
I realize my hair still smells of the hotel shampoo – an unfamiliar fragrance . Normally , I walk into our deviant outings with fragile nerves , easily upset by the smallest of things . But today , this aroma of lavender , even if a symbol of our indiscretions , feels delicious . It ’ s seeped from my damp hair into the pillows , and now the man and the sheets are smelling of it too . It ’ s like he and I and our love have all melted and melded into an incandescent embrace , impenetrable to any forces human or divine .
As much as it is a testimony of our lack of conscience , this night is also a sign that our relationship is too thick for reasoning , that resistance is futile , and that perhaps , there truly is a space in the world beyond acceptance and forbiddance , reserved for people like us who can ’ t help but love the unavailable .
I turn to hug Deb , but he ’ s not with me anymore . He is gazing at the air-conditioner , as if the thermostat knob will answer his questions . His right cheek , the one that faces me , bears a scar he ’ s recently acquired from a shaving accident . He ’ s losing hair , and I can see his pate glistening under the lamp . His beard has lately sprouted a lot of greys . When he gets too worried about those , I usually soothe his concerns with “ You ’ re sexier like this ”. It ’ s not untrue . And it makes him smile .
So swiftly life passes us by . We ruminate away , and by the time we realize the folly of over-thought , it is time for the body to meet the grave .
Lust is a four-letter word , an innocuous little thing , grieving under the disproportionate weight of all the world ’ s judgment , as if those prohibiting it have never crumpled a few sheets themselves . Why do we think we know better than our instincts ? Lust is the starting point of life , of birth . It unifies man , animal , and everything in between . Even he who knows nothing knows lust . Come to think of it , this is the only one of the seven sins that hurts no one , except perhaps when it involves people who are already ‘ taken ’.
But exclusivity in relationships is , as Deb often reminds me , a man-made construct . Biology has precious little to do with our social conditioning . If the body seeks communion with another in an intuitive , organic moment , uniting sweat and soul