Author: Samvratha Nair
Love is difficult to define.
I find it lurking in all my hand sanitizers.
Smiling brightly in my morning vitamin tablets and pleading for attention from my forgotten masks.
Love laughs and shakes its head as we stare at dusty pictures of forgotten holidays and leaves us with the promise of more hiking days.
I find it in the air, the distance that has suddenly made its way between neighbours and friends.
I see it standing firm and determined behind the cursory glances of inspectors on duty.
It weeps with the slightest increase in the number of cases and offers a tight hug with the hope of a new vaccine.
I find it comforting when the breaks and cracks of home get filled with the cement of responsibilities.
And I watch it silently bloom with the loud laughter on a video call with my grandparents.
I see love crawl under the borrowed blankets of the unfortunate where it stays for warmth.
And each time we get frustrated and rebel, I feel it slowly crumbling and gasping to breathe with new law enforcements.
Sometimes love gets lost, it stumbles and falls, but its clumsy soul always finds it's way back into the closed chambers of our hearts.