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It’s Time We Stop Believing In Love

Let us think about a world sans the love we obsess over, the one shared by two individuals.

The flowchart of our life would then look somewhat like this, right?

Birth ——-> Do as you please ( Read Nihilism) ——–> Death. Easy breezy, right?

Now, let’s see our life inclusive of the LOVE.

Birth ——> Fairy tales seeding the first notion of love in your budding innocence ——> Growing up with rosy dreams about Prince Charming/ Princess Something (since I failed to find his feminine counterpart) hyper-accentuated by Bollywood ——-> Puberty hits and dreams start converging into 3D ——-> Crushes, Heartbreak, Tears, Friends Taunting, Memories Haunting ——-> All the while sexuality creeps in stealthily into your so-far pristine pondering ——–> The First Love, First Kiss, First Sex ——-> You add the words Compromise, Understanding, Adjustment, COMPATIBILITY to your vocab ——-> You try to conform yourself to a pattern that suffocates you subconsciously ——-> The golden glaze of Forever fades slowly, the flexibility becomes less elastic till one day, it breaks  ——–> Cycle repeats till you reach the point of giving up, someone swoops in to save the day and you settle down ——–> The peach blushes of a honeymoon brimmed with anticipation slowly dwindle into the mundane ——–> And you need constant reminders of why you’re doing this, and hence emerge anniversaries, second honeymoons, renewing vows , and in less pleasant cases that pervade boredom, marriage counseling, cheating, often separation ——–>Either you start over the whole process all over again with an enthusiasm you falsely convince your tired soul into OR you choose to put up a smile and erase those “What If?”-s from you mind till ——–> Death.


One hardcore non-believer even dared to tell me that love is merely a gimmick that has been skillfully marketed for ages to keep the process of reproduction and flow of life ongoing.

Okay, I know the devout worshipers of Cupid out there are all ready to rebuff me with utter disdain after reading up to this. Hold on, I will speak a little bit more if somehow deep down there is an embryonic part of you that’s beginning to question your faith in love.

Let’s address the elephant in the room. What is love?

Ladies and Gentlemen, here comes the limbic lobe of your brain, comprising of the striatum (love feels and sexual desires), amygdala (emotional processing), hippocampus (memory retention) etc. , to explain.

The butterflies in your stomach feeling of having a crush? Say thanks to the neurotransmitters.

The slow falling in love head-over-heels? Phenylethylamine takes the centre stage assisted by dopamine and norepinephrine.

The strong sexual attraction? You know this one! Testosterone here, hello!

The urges for warm cuddles, squishy snuggles and spooning? Oxytocin.


You will argue now, then what keeps it going even after long?

Well, it becomes more of a habit.

And how about those sudden moments that “makes you fall in love with him/her all over again?”

Endorphins and serotonin dear, the same you get from chocolates. (Why else do you think chocolates rule the charts of Love Gifts? Also, they’re potent aphrodisiacs. *winks*)

Then why does it hurt after it ends?

Well, as Buddha said, “Attachment is the cause of all suffering.”

Still not convinced? They agree with me too:

The Love Chemicals

Lust , Love, and The Brain


Science Says Love Doesn’t Exist

Yet, it is fair that you point out the evidence to me how love transcends above all time and space ( pilfering from Interstellar) and that true love does exist that is something beyond our narrow understanding and engulfing the greater mystic Aura of the material world……. You will cite me literature, poetry, music, art, movies that are the brainchild of Love.

I will beg to contradict here that what if it is the other way around? That we borrow whatever pleases our chemicals and keep us filled with that “feeling of love” from the mere opiates that these creative executions prove to be.

And I personally being an immensely emotional person (who cried during Happy Feet!), if I’m speaking like this, you will say these are acerbic talks arising from me having colossally failed at love. No, sir. These are logically derived conclusions, to prevent me from stepping into this Wonderland of Love and be trapped in its sugar-coated insinuations forever.

However, there’s an epilogue to this article.

You might ask me, have I ever been in love?

Yes. I have been in love. With the person who taught me its futility.




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