What is Love?

Baby don't hurt me. No more.

Okay, that was a bad start, but the topic almost demanded me to write that. Anyway, its funny to think that there comes a time sometimes when you know you want to write, you know you've got multiple topics to write about and you also have the medium to share it, but somehow, everytime you sit down and start typing, it just doesn't happen. All sense goes out of the window as the sentences you type could very well be in another language. And as I've been told, that happens more than enough already in the English that I use, so I've been putting off writing for quite sometime now. 

After a while though, it struck me that its not really necessary to write an essay just to put a point across. Sometimes, the lesser said is a better statement. Take for instance, the famous quote from Sir Alex Ferguson, "Football, Bloody hell." coming post match after that historic UEFA Champions League final, 1999 in the Camp Nou, Barcelona which Manchester United won by scoring 2 goals in time added on to the 90 minutes. The man was speechless, could hardly believe at what his team had achieved, moments after conceding defeat in his mind.

It fair to say then, being speechless isn't a bad thing. It happens quite less in our lives, as compared to other moments of shock and awe, that it is sure to bring along some other emotion with it. Obviously, being "Swept off your feet" is a more common feeling experienced, when Love at first sight is spoken of. And yes, it's not the only thing that one experiences at that stage but there is a sense of happiness, a good feeling, something that brings along a huge smile on your face and you don't really know why its there. Sure, you might know it's stimuli, but why it makes you happy is a deeper secret.

Your mind goes into overdrive, thinking of so many situations to make this work just in the right way. So many things you want to do at that very moment. But somehow, the controls of your body and brain are lost. You can feel them having goosebumps all over, but still it seems you have no authority over them anymore. There's this weird reason why everything you were thinking about previously has become moot. And like I said earlier, all sense is "Whooosh!".

How do I know this? The answer is fairly simple. And expected. I've been in love.

Just once, though. And that was enough. To bind me to it. To make me realize that no matter what happens, if I can stay close enough to what I love, nothing else would be much of a concern. Its very, very corny, I know. But people in love will tell you that. They will also tell you how hard it is and how many sacrifices one might have to make. They might also tell you that after a while you will grow bored and fed up and want an out. Fortunately, I am lucky enough to love something that has no prospect of giving me such a feeling.

Football. The best thing to happen to me since I was born.

It calls to me. It makes me feel alive. It has made me laugh, made me cry-for both happy & sad reasons-and I don't regret a moment of it. Because its worth it. Because it feels so good when I play with my team. And even better when I score a winning goal. The attachment that I have with my team is probably stronger than any friend I've ever had. Its because-when we play absolutely seriously-we would kill the opposition in every sense of the footballing term. That feeling of 10 men working their asses off to take the ball and give it to you and then play with you in a telepathic manner is irreplaceable. Its one of many reasons that we, as players, would have broken our hamstrings and we won't get to know till the end of the game. The pain? Oh there's none. "I'll run it off!" means something. We aren't lying when we say that. In that moment of pain, the love of football takes over and the body just has to deal with it. Because only the red card from the referee can send us off the Holy Ground. Nothing else.

Everyone who's been in love will tell you of their nearly similar experiences. Mine, are very different. And the reason why I'm reminiscing every moment of my football life today is, because its been 16 weeks since I last played. The knee op. Lets not get into that.

Its a very cheesy dialogue saying "I can't live without you." and I agree. And honestly, I've never really said anything like that because things you love never really leave you. No matter what you do, once you love something, it will leave a mark, an impression. It will be a such deep one, that it becomes embedded into you. The memories you have are enough to make you feel happy everyday, regardless of how bad the day might have gone. And if you're smiling right now, remembering some moments from your past, well, kudos. You've loved someone for some or other reason. Its a different feeling altogether, isn't it?

I've had multiple scenarios thinking of my return to playing ways in the past few weeks and that's probably the only reason what has kept me sane. Sort of. Eventually, I've learnt a valuable lesson of life. Patience, is a virtue that is only attainable through experience. And well, in my case, love. For I can't see myself not playing for another two years, let alone my entire life, I've made my peace with the remaining 4 months more that I have to spend on the sidelines. If indeed I want to play again at the highest level that is the price I have to pay, I am more than willing to do it. Obviously, 17-year old me would never make such a deal, but I guess that's what 3 extra years of love do to you. Makes you ready to make sacrifices and take hits for the thing you love. Because you know it will be worth it. And because you know, in my case, when I finally step back on to the fabled pitch with my cleats tied up and the football in my reach, I will be born again. Like a Phoenix from its ashes. Because that's what football does to me. And that is what true love will do to you.

You don't choose to play football. Football, chooses you.