Be it the new dictionary your father gave you, Kindle Voyage you got on your birthday from your girlfriend, or that limited-edition gadget, which you’ve finally got your hands on, after waiting for months, successfully convincing your mother on how critically important it was, for your future plans in saving the world. You sure had that hibernating obsession within you, just waiting for the opportunity to manifest, when you plan to handle your gifts, aka new sweethearts.
You glance at its surface in oblique angles, detecting any changes in the pathways of reflected light, and passionately polish it to brand-newness. You think twice before cleaning it with a cloth, fearing that the fibre is too rough or too dirty for your sweetheart. And you spend more than thirty-seconds, unable to decide if you should let it rest against that apparently smooth surface which might be an epitome of harshness in disguise, when you have to take a quick break and visit the washroom.
So you spend some, well, more than more, absolutely focussed time with it, filling it with your boundless love and attention, and when you have to sleep, you ensure that it’s snug and settled inside the covers you tore off it that morning, which you know would find themselves in the trash can, in little more than a week.
This wave of infatuation, which you thought was unconditional love, shouldn’t usually last beyond the event of finding a new sweetheart in your room, replacing the top spot in the ‘objects of your obsession’ list, or till it was subjected to an “ouch” moment, or “Oh ****” moment when you mishandled it, thinking about some—trivial—thing else. More than once. You immediately complete the first-aid, simultaneously searching online for expert advice on how to turn back time, and undo an event, which you know you wouldn’t find.
Then finally some contemplation on the impermanence of material goods, and the futility of self abuse. That sooner or later this was bound to happen. And you wake up one day and go to sleep at night without even thinking about it. Infatuation is gone. After all, you have other duties to take care of.
Now here are some chunks of advice from experience to turn your experience with gifts, a tad better. Things are things and see them so. I don’t care what fancy names you call them in. They would never replace humans. Don’t mistreat people when you think they are demanding the time you’ve planned for your infatuations. You’ll regret it later. And it’s very easy to lose sensibility when you are infatuated.
Too much focus can burn anything. So just breathe, and let it breathe. That way, you can have it without dents for far longer than you thought was possible, and can spend that part of your life with people who give you gifts, which in most cases, could be more fulfilling than playing with toys. You are a grownup, for god’s sake.
– Avinash Kumar