Ce e iubirea

Stiti cum se zice… iubirea, dragostea nu mai exista. Acum totul e pe interes, fiecare om in parte isi cauta interesul, are un plan si se foloseste de alt om pentru a-si atinge obiectivul. Pacat ca asta a ajuns sa stearga din radacina si iubirea.

Ce e iubirea?

Uite ca nu exista o definitie clara, cel putin eu nu vad una plauzibila, valida si testata. Poate este un gram de nebunie, poate este un strop de curaj sau o graunta de zambet aruncat la momentul potrivit unei persoane care te-a remarcat deja. Poate este grija, poate este interes fata de celalalt fara sa astepti ceva in schimb, dar este atat de mult de discutat aici incat as putea scrie carti (ca tot imi sugera un prieten zilele trecute).

N-am intalnit-o, drept vorbind. A fost o sclipire, a fost un geamat de durere, a fost o clipa de inconstienta, a fost o imagine din trecut, este o amintire. Acum iubirea sau relatia au devenit atat de fade, atat de mici si sterse, atat de ignorate…

Pot sa iti zic doar atat. Iubirea de mama si atasamentul unui suflet nevinovat, curat, mic sunt, pentru mine, cele mai pretioase.

Daca faci ceva pentru cineva oricat de mic, care stii ca nu are cum sa iti intoarca favorul, iti arati sufletul, chiar daca este ingaurit, rupt si istovit de-a lungul calatoriei sale. Gram de umanitate exista in toti.

Pornesc povestea asta de la o intamplare care m-a facut sa zambesc de fericire si nici macar nu mi se intampla mie. Au fost cateva clipe, poate nici zece secunde care m-au facut sa tanjesc dupa acea legatura atat de impresionanata.

Se intampla la ceas de seara, dupa o zi lunga si grea la birou, dupa minute in sir de stat in frig asteptand autobuzul, dupa alte minute petrecute in inghesuiala. Se intampla intr-o fractiune de secunda, cand nu te astepti.

Cand stii ca urmeaza capatul de linie si toata lumea coboara, cand autobuzul pleaca in sfarsit fara zgomot, agale, ca un batran cocosat din statie, cand toata lumea se imprastie asteptand alt ratb sau luand-o usor spre casa, atunci se intampla sa auzi cuvinte frumoase si sa te gandesti la ele mult timp dupa ce ajungi acasa. Acolo unde nu te asteapta nimeni.

Ratb-ul nu apucase sa plece din statie cand am auzit:

– Hai iubire, hai du-te acolo in fata…

La care ea, miscandu-se usor pe langa autobuz ii spune calm si incet:

– Stai sa treaca, sa plece asta.

El asteapta tacut cateva secunde si continua pe acelasi ton cald, intr-un mers grabit, cu pasi mici, carand in fiecare mana cate o plasa plina.

– Hai urca, ai grija, tine-te de bara. Ai grija la mana, ai urcat? Ti ai luat cele 2 sacose cu tine?

– Da, dar care doua ca doar una am? Aratandu-I omului o plasuta mica pe care o tinea in mana stanga.

– Bine, hai vino stai aici. Ai grija.

Cand am auzit “hai iubire” imadiat mi-am proiectat in cap un tanar licean amorezat peste masura care incearca sa urce repede cu domnita sa in ratb. Nu mica mi-a fost mirarea cand am vazut poate cei mai simpatici oameni, un cuplu atat de perfect potrivit, in varsta, care mi-a demonstrate un lucru impecabil. Aia e iubire.

Si poate ca s-au certat la viata lor, si poate ca au tipat unul la altul si s-au suparat la un moment dat. Insa e altceva sa stii ca dupa toti acesti ani (poate nici nu erau asa multi ani) acel “iubire” are insemnatate.

Personal,”iubire” cred ca am rostit de foarte putine ori unei singure persoane, pentru ca e mai intim, cel putin pentru mine, dar cand il auzi din gura unui batran de peste 60-70 de ani, iti poti imagina ca exista o conexiune mai… sacra. Folosesc cuvinte mari.

Eu scriu despre viata, despre mine, despre lucrurile pe care le vad si care ma incanta, despre calatorii si ganduri vechi sau noi, despre priviri incruntate, dimineti adormite si seri singuratice. Eu scriu pentru cine e dispus sa-si dedice 10 minute unui alt tip de univers – dincolo de agitatie, lipsa de rabdare, suparare sau necaz.

Pe tine ce te-a impresionat azi?

This is for Michal.

What is love?

You know what they say… love, that doesn’t exist anymore. Everything is a long purpose, each and every one of us has a plan and he or she is using another human being to reach their objective. It’s a shame, that thing erased the essence of love.

What is love?

There is no clear definition to that; at least I can’t see a real, valid, tested one. Maybe is a pinch of madness, a drop of courage or a little smile you show the right time to the person who’s been noticing you already. Maybe is care, maybe is interest without expecting anything in return, but is still so much to discuss here that I could write a book (as a friend suggested, couple of days ago).

I never met it, sincerely. It was a twinkle, a painful moan, o moment of unconsciousness, an image from the past, which is now a memory. Now love or a relationship became so dull, small, so wiped…

I can only say this: Mother’s love and the attachment of a poor, clean, pure soul are, for me, the most precious types of love.

If you do something for someone, nevertheless big or small, someone who is incapable of returning that favor, this is how you show your soul. Even though it’s drilled, torn and exhausted from its journey. A little piece of humanity is in every one of us.

I start this story from a random occurrence which made me smile even though it wasn’t happening to me. There were a couple of moments, maybe not even 10 seconds which made me crawl after a bond deeply impressive.

It was late, after a long day at the office, after too many minutes freezing, waiting for the bus, after another many minutes crowded in the bus. It’s happening in a glitch of an eye, when you don’t even expect it.

When you know is the end of the line, everyone is getting down from the bus, when the vehicle leaves empty, without crazy noises, like an old man from his last station, when everyone is scattered, waiting for another bus or simply going home, that’s when you hear beautiful words to which you think about when you get home. The place where no one waits for you.

The bus was about to leave the station when I hear:

– Come on, love, come; go there in the front…

She, moving slow besides the bus, tells him calm and low:

– Wait for it to leave, this one.

He waits in silence for a couple of seconds and then he continued on the same warm voice, with a hurried walk, small steps, but quick, carrying 2 heavy bags in his hands.

– Come on, be careful, mind your steps, and watch your hand, you up? You took your 2 bags with you?

– Yes, but I only have one. Showing him the only little bag she was carrying in her left hand.

– Good. Come on, sit here. Take care.

When I heard “come on, love” I immediately imagine a young high school man, deeply in love who was trying to get on the bus with his sweetheart. I was kind of shocked to see maybe the nicest people, a perfect couple, old couple who showed me an impressive thing. Love is real.

And maybe they had their flows in life, maybe they shouted at each other, maybe they were upset sometimes. But knowing that after all these years (maybe they weren’t together for that long) that “love” is still meaningful.

Personal, I used “love” just a couple of times for one person in my life, because is private, at least for me, but when you hear it from a 60-70 years old mouth, you can imagine that there is a sacred… connection. I use big words.

I write about life, about me, about things I see and find impressive, about life journeys and new or old thoughts, about frowning glances, sleepy mornings and lonely night. I write for someone who is open to dedicate 10 minute of his life to another kind of universe – beyond restlessness, lack of patience, anger or trouble.

What impressed you today?

Fotograf: Alexandru Ilie