Soul mate, wherefore art thou?

A beautiful yellow butterfly shared the air space with us for a couple of minutes while our taxi was en route from Dehradun to Delhi.   Then I noticed another butterfly, brown in color, flying in tandem right under the yellow butterfly.   They soared, dipped, and inched to the sides as a graceful ice skating team dancing in perfect harmony.   “Ah! Soul mates”, I sighed to myself with longing.  

This was the beginning to a seemingly long thought process.   Is finding a soul mate a romantic fallacy, a quixotic belief such as ‘love at first sight’ or is it a truth that is meant to be, a jigsaw puzzle where that single piece with the perfect fit does exist.   Is it a destination or a journey? Is the connection based upon spirituality, emotional fulfillment, physical attraction, common goals, magnetism drawing opposites together, thinking alike or having been together for so long that life seems incomplete without each other?

Strolling down the meandering path of memories, I could not pinpoint one single person who has understood me at all times, with whom I have always felt complete, who accepts all of me, all the time- just the way I am, or who has the ability to perpetually bring out the best in me.   It was quite a dispiriting thought; having covered half or more of my lifetime and still no sign of the perfect jigsaw piece.  

I decided to plunge deeper into the thicket of thoughts and reminiscences.   I remembered the times when a friend was there to listen to me without being judgmental.   And the times my husband helped unravel difficult situations for me, his efforts to bring me happiness.   The emotional fulfillment my children bestow upon me, especially the times when I held them as tiny bundles, secure in my arms.   My confidence that my parents love me just the way I am.   My sister’s willingness to be a perfect friend and sister rolled into one, whenever I need her.   The thoughts I could share with my brother knowing that they would always be secure with him.   The spiritual connection I felt while sitting on the porch swing and eyeing the immense greenery in our yard.  

So yes, I have not found the “one” soul mate I may be destined for.   But then, perhaps this search is not a destination; it is a journey with several milestones on the way.   My soul mates complete different parts at different points in my life.   Yet, the nagging thought stayed forefront, “What about the times when the whole still has a hole?” What then? Am I destined to be incomplete, with holes?

Pensively I looked out the window at the butterflies and realized that the brown butterfly flying in synchrony with the yellow one was nothing, but its shadow.   It dawned upon me that the only way to fill all the holes and find my perpetual soul mate was to look into a mirror.   This search must end within my own self.   There are jigsaw pieces that will fit at various places in my life, but I must become the piece that will complete the puzzle.

Does that sound right, or is this just another case of “sour grapes”?

Death- What does it rob one of?

I found out yesterday morning that a dear friend had lost her husband in a road accident.   She herself was in the hospital recuperating from extensive knee and plastic surgery.   The only grace of the episode being that their seven year old son suffered just a minor fracture.   It took me a while to sort my thoughts- immense sadness for my friend, anger at the traffic in Bangalore, shock at how life can change in an instant, anxiety about her future and a void in trying to figure out what to say to her, how do I tell her to be strong and how can I be there for her while she grieves.  

I called her on the phone to sense whether she was up to meeting people or wanted to be left alone.   After an awkward moment of silence, she said, “I’ve lost my best friend. ”   She choked on her words, repeated them thrice and started sobbing silently.   The agony in her voice did not show any resentment at the unfair hand she had been dealt with, any indulgence in self pity or any fretfulness about the future.   It was a stark statement about what she no longer had.   It had a chill that could engulf the warmth of an entire planet and yet feel cold.   “A best friend, I don’t have one any more.”   Her child like simplicity carried within it the wisdom of being able to pinpoint the very essence of her loss.  

I was reminded of an email where another friend of mine had written, “Old friends are indeed like old wine, intoxicating to the core.”   I thought of my bereaved friend’s loss.   She had lost not just an old friend but her best friend.   She had lost that what intoxicated her in life or rather, what intoxicated her towards life.   What else was there for her to say, she had summed it up so poignantly.