How to find Indian love - The Pyaasa Syndrome

By Paromita Vohra

Today we will discuss a common syndrome found in the Indian male lover: The Pyaasa Syndrome.

Yes, it is indeed related to Pyaasa, the iconic film in which Vijay, an angst-ridden political poet is eventually published with the help of a golden-hearted prostitute, Gulabo, whose love for him remains unreturned.

We all know enough examples of angsty, bearded artistic men who somehow find a wonderful lover to serve their creative needs and progress, though this good romantic fortune never seems to cheer them up.However the Pyaasa Syndrome can also manifest in non-artistic males.

Forty-three-year-old S, female, is a published writer, cheerful romantic, quick to laugh and fall in love, not hankering for marriage, accomplished and even a tad famous.

S matched with C on Tinder. He was charming, easy-going, interested enough in the world that they didn't lack for conversation and transitioned soon to WhatsApp. Once comfortable, S revealed a bit more about herself, including the bit about being a tad famous.

That didn't go so well. “But,“ said S, “I understood.Suddenly I didn't seem like a regular person, the field didn't feel level. He wouldn't be the first guy to feel intimidated by that so I thought, `Give him a few days to adjust before agreeing to meet'.“

Their next three conversations went like this: S: Hey, what's up? C: Oh, don't ask (translation: Please ask) S: Oh, what happened? C: Oh, life happenedlife can never be so bad that it can't get worse Sigh.

Such conversations can be filed under the label: Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaye Toh Kya Hai.

The expected female response to them is: Oh sweetie, can't I do something to make it better? Cue for man to look dark, moody (reference, Guru Dutt backlit and brooding in doorway) and respond: You're very sweet, but I must stoically bear this cross. No one can help me. (Reference: Jaane woh kaise log the jinke pyar ko pyar mila, sniff).

Immediately, the woman will feel she must rise to the challenge of helping and loving, singing, “Tum apna ranj-o-gham apni pareshani mujhe de do“.Florence Nightingale-Gulabo will now dedicate herself to the drama of assuaging his un-nameable sorrows (actually, they probably have a name, like, Nina, Mina, Anju, Manju yaa Madhu), convinced All He Needs Is Love. It will turn out that actually, All He Needs Is Rum because it rhymes with gham. Soon he'll get liver trouble, run out of sick leave, she will work to support them and nurse him in her free time.

While S was telling her story, our mutual friend A, a worldly-wise young gent of 32, began giggling. “Arre what could he do,“ said A. “He discovers you are a successful woman. He feels unimportant. So he becomes submissive, weak. You reassure him, and that's how he becomes important again.“ Or, The Pyaasa Syndrome.

Interestingly, this reminded me of something Abrar Alvi describes in the book “My Ten Years With Guru Dutt.“ In his original script of Pyaasa, Gulabo was the central character. Slowly, as the director asked for changes, she yielded centre-stage to Guru Dutt's angst-ridden poet. Life-meets-art-meets-life doesn't always meet love.

For generations we have worshipped men who speak of the world's problems in that “aur bhi dukh hain zamane mein mohabbat ke siva“ way, implying that love is a trivial thing, and by implication dissing the woman who devotes herself to him.

But times change. S, our cheerful romantic, simply un-matched C, rolled her eyes and moved on. Yeh duniya nahin mil bhi jaye toh kya hai is her song.

Disclaimer: The views expressed here are the author's own. The opinions and facts expressed here do not reflect the views of Mirror and Mirror does not assume any responsibility or liability for the same.