Valentine's Day is the most meaningless of all non-holidays.
First of all, it has nothing to do with us, the people of Karachi, Pakistan, or even Asia. It's a Roman holiday named after some Roman saints called Valentine, and if we are so keen on celebrating this particular holiday, we might as well go ahead and celebrate other Roman holidays like Quinquatrus Day, or Agonia Day (which was observed by sacrificing victims on the seven hills of Rome), or Parilia Day (which honors the pastoral goddess Pales, and is observed by driving sheep through burning straw), or Fordicidia Day (which honors Tellus, Goddess of Earth, and is observed by slaughtering pregnant cows, taking the unborn calves from the womb, and burning them in order to insure fertility for the growing corn).
Secondly, and most importantly, Valentine's Day has got nothing to do with love either. Truth be told, all the red that you see on Valentine's Day shows more of an association with the blood of the martyr saints rather than being the color of love and passion. Yes, that's right, blood. The 'Valentine' in Valentine's Day refers to at least three Roman saints of ancient Rome, all of whom were painfully tortured before they were brutally slain for their 'heretic' behavior and for holding ambitious religious beliefs. Their deaths had nothing to do with 'love' or any other idea remotely related with 'love.' They never preached the lesson of 'love,' never told anyone about 'love,' did not have any idea what 'love' was, and they sure in hell did not die for 'love.' It is just funny to think that many years later people would end up celebrating a feast of love in their name when I am willing to bet my pot on the fact that these Valentine fellows had never even heard of the word 'love' in all of their lives. They gave up their lives and spilled their blood for their convictions and we use it to paint our towns red every year for ours.
There was a lot of uncalled for 'redness' last night in Karachi, so much so that I actually ended up getting sick. Couples and transvestites wearing matching red clothes, restaurants all laden up in their red themes of red hearts and red balloons, I even saw one of those 'hari-topi-walay mullahs' (the-green-hat-wearing-holy-men) wearing a red-topi this time! I went to Nandos last night with my cousins and it felt like I had entered the set of a cheap, slasher, teenage horror flick that takes place in an underground butchery. It was so red in there that I actually started hallucinating that red spiders were crawling down my red back. The lights were wrapped in red cellophane, there were red balloons inside, and the glass was painted with red hearts. The waiters, the chicken, the pita bread, even the peri-peri sauce were all red. A guy named 'Laal' also came to my house to collect a bill that I had forgotten to pay to him earlier. It was insane, I tell you. And to think all this happened in the name of love.
I don't think love even exists. And don't think I am just saying that in some deep, dark, philosophical, metaphysical, abstract, sagacious, oh-I-have-loved-and-lost-and-I-have-become-a-complete-cynic, deep, dark kind of a way. I have scientific and mathematical proof that love really does not exist.
Ok, so everyone knows that any number divided by infinity is zero, right? Keep that in mind. Now the population of our world is estimated to be 6,649,117,969 (six billion, six hundred and forty nine million, one hundred and seventeen thousand, nine hundred and sixty nine) people. There is 1 planet capable of sustaining life in our solar system (for my Martian readers, it is the Earth, of course), an estimated 100,000,000,000 (one hundred billion) solar systems in our galaxy alone, and an infinite number of galaxies in our universe, which means that there are an infinite number of planets as well (since anything multiplied by infinity is also infinity). Even if everyone on Earth projects 'love' to even 100 people in their lifetime (which is an extremely generous estimate), we will have 664,911,796,900 (six hundred and sixty four billion, nine hundred and eleven million, seven hundred and ninety six thousand, and nine hundred) 'packets' of love. Divide that by the infinite number of planets in this universe, gives us that magical number zero (since anything divided by infinity is zero). Hence, love does not exist, at least not in our universe; quod erat demonstrandum.
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6 comments:
omer ur just mad..u have too much time to think of the most ridiculous theories of the world and the universe.im sorry but ur theory on love doesn't make sense to me..
although i do feel that valentine's is overrated and over done and by the end of day ur vision becomes red with all the red that u've seen all day :)
you pessimist!
your post is a complete antithesis of mine.
i actually enjoy watching people go all out and do crazy things... its the one day you are almost certain nothing bad could happen.
Dude, your theory is perfect. On the spot actually. I had to step out of the office on valentines and the situation of the city and its inhabitants was just sad. You had a bunch of people (mostly men) out on the streets, wearing shirts that were so tight that I could have sworn they were smuggling peanuts by the pair. These dudes were wearing glasses and kept staring at the few single women that were out on the streets. Now the couples, that's another anecdote unto itself. You had the women who were looking unsatisfied with the size of the rose stem presented to them and by their men. The men on the other hand kept looking at their watches to wonder when this all would be over and over their shoulders, as if they would be discovered by date #4. As if this country isn't crazy enough.
You are lucky you don't have International Women's day. That's the meaningless of all non-holidays.
Oh so clever. Kudos!
Over rated day. I am not sure what love is. But your theory is too scientific for a believer.
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