Have I experienced something that could not be logically explained?

 ‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’ 

This is such a good question. Partly because I'm a fool, and as much as Elon Musk says that engineering is magic, I agree to disagree. You know, even if you trick your brain into believing otherwise, your heart just denies it. It fazes me, my heart.  

And if somebody were to come and tell me that they truly understand me, I’d feel elated. Because it is not as if they have got the algorithm for my heart off of the internet, or copied the algorithm from somebody else, or that a teacher has come and taught them it. There’re no scientific explanations which apply to each and every person, right? We’re different, and that’s the only explanation. Unconditional love, understanding someone, is what makes my heart flutter.

Heart, is where all logic fails. So, I’m opening the curtains wide, and diving for those desires and feelings which just can’t be explained! Nothing explains this dreadful feeling of the imminent prospect of taking exams, when I have been reading Harry Potter all this time. Have I been in denial? Because harry has said, “What good is theoretical knowledge in the real world, anyway?” so, more like inspired, right? But he doesn’t exist. Why don’t I get inspired by my teachers?

Nothing explains this fervent desire for the day to just end, so that I can wash the dirt off my body. Why? Why is my heart so set on future activities yet at the same time fearful of it?

And love? What kind of twisted game is that? What are these feelings, and why don’t they just go away? Why do I feel bad about something as great as love? Why do I feel guilty?

The blinding sunlight cast the city in a dizzying and gloomy look, it was sweltering hot. The whitish look of the sky made Rue keep her head down. Moving through the crowd, she came to a halt. She found shelter under the shadow of a tree and kept looking at her watch. Her phone rang, she picked it up.

 “I love you.”  The voice at the other end said

“What?” She said, completely shocked at the confession. 

“I really do. I have been trying to reach you since morning. I was worried. And it made me want to wish I’d said it sooner.”

“I...what?  You’re so weird. I’m the most imperfect girl in your universe.”

What is imperfection anyway? Are the things that pertain to imperfection to one, perfection to another? Or do they accept these imperfections? Or they don’t care and just ignore them? How does it work?

Maybe the answers lie in some psychological jargon, maybe you’ll say that if you love somebody, it doesn’t matter. Then why does it matter to the other person?

You know, sometimes even scientific information becomes unreliable because we don’t understand it.  Is it the same with people when we look at them with bleary eyes? Because I do that a lot, but I’m also always right about my judgement, but that is just probability, right?

Oh, love! I should be studying. Signals. Just theory. What explains my lack of imagination in one sphere of life and abundance in another?

This is never ending. You get the point.