There is an art in how society glorifies pain, especially the pain of lost love. Recently, I watched the movie Sapta Sagaradaache Ello, a film with an enormous fanbase, often spoken of as a “comfort movie” for many. If one asks people about their favourite love stories, the most common answers are usually films like 96, Sita Ramam, Me Before You, or 500 Days of Summer ,stories where love is ultimately lost rather than fulfilled.
Perhaps this is because the society we live in contains far more unsuccessful love stories than successful ones. People see fragments of themselves in these narratives; the ache becomes relatable, almost intimate. Cinema and literature have mastered the ability to romanticize longing, absence, and emotional incompleteness. Pain is no longer merely pain ,it becomes poetry.
But somewhere along the way, glorification turns into validation. Today, I often see people sacrificing their ambitions, happiness, passions, and even their sense of self in the name of a love they lost years ago. The question is,it really worth it?
Losing someone you deeply loved is undeniably painful. Some wounds stay longer than we expect. But pain should not become a permanent residence. One must eventually learn to move forward instead of allowing grief to consume an entire lifetime.
Take 96 for example. At its core, it is a story about a boy who loved a girl in school and lost her due to circumstances. Naturally, that loss would hurt. But waiting emotionally for someone for twenty years does not necessarily make the love more sacred, divine, or extraordinary. Moving on or holding on is ultimately a personal choice, but society often treats prolonged suffering as something noble, as though endurance itself is proof of purity.
The same emotional idealism can be seen in Manju by MT. The protagonist clings to the memory of a man she met briefly during a vacation years ago. A decade later, she is still waiting, fully aware that he may never return. The story is celebrated precisely because of that endless waiting , because society often mistakes emotional stagnation for depth.
Yet, we are given only one life. There is nothing inherently divine about suffering endlessly for someone who is no longer part of your journey. Love is beautiful, but so is growth. So is healing. So is choosing yourself again after heartbreak.
Waiting for someone forever may make for beautiful cinema and unforgettable literature, but in real life, happiness, purpose, and self-discovery are equally worthy of celebration
Perhaps I feel this so strongly because I have lived through it myself. I know what it means to carry the absence of someone for years, to miss a person who was never truly mine to begin with. For the longest time, I mistook holding on for love and pain for loyalty. The realization that life cannot be built around a permanent absence came much later than it should have.
Holding on or moving on is absolutely personal choice but what's the price we pay for that ultimately is the question that lingers long .
Perhaps this is because the society we live in contains far more unsuccessful love stories than successful ones. People see fragments of themselves in these narratives; the ache becomes relatable, almost intimate. Cinema and literature have mastered the ability to romanticize longing, absence, and emotional incompleteness. Pain is no longer merely pain ,it becomes poetry.
But somewhere along the way, glorification turns into validation. Today, I often see people sacrificing their ambitions, happiness, passions, and even their sense of self in the name of a love they lost years ago. The question is,it really worth it?
Losing someone you deeply loved is undeniably painful. Some wounds stay longer than we expect. But pain should not become a permanent residence. One must eventually learn to move forward instead of allowing grief to consume an entire lifetime.
Take 96 for example. At its core, it is a story about a boy who loved a girl in school and lost her due to circumstances. Naturally, that loss would hurt. But waiting emotionally for someone for twenty years does not necessarily make the love more sacred, divine, or extraordinary. Moving on or holding on is ultimately a personal choice, but society often treats prolonged suffering as something noble, as though endurance itself is proof of purity.
The same emotional idealism can be seen in Manju by MT. The protagonist clings to the memory of a man she met briefly during a vacation years ago. A decade later, she is still waiting, fully aware that he may never return. The story is celebrated precisely because of that endless waiting , because society often mistakes emotional stagnation for depth.
Yet, we are given only one life. There is nothing inherently divine about suffering endlessly for someone who is no longer part of your journey. Love is beautiful, but so is growth. So is healing. So is choosing yourself again after heartbreak.
Waiting for someone forever may make for beautiful cinema and unforgettable literature, but in real life, happiness, purpose, and self-discovery are equally worthy of celebration
Perhaps I feel this so strongly because I have lived through it myself. I know what it means to carry the absence of someone for years, to miss a person who was never truly mine to begin with. For the longest time, I mistook holding on for love and pain for loyalty. The realization that life cannot be built around a permanent absence came much later than it should have.
Holding on or moving on is absolutely personal choice but what's the price we pay for that ultimately is the question that lingers long .
