It’s been barely a month and we swiftly
move from one over-commercialized
season to the next. Forget about the
super bowl. The lights are back on,
only this time glowing low and red.
Hotels are redecorating and checking
their guest bookings. Flowers are not
only destined for export but seem to
have found an aggressive market
locally. It’s in the news, it’s in the air…
almost as if the moon inched closer
and the tidal wave of hearts just
soared. They even have apps that
calculate the probability that you will
‘find the one’ during this period. All for
love, right?

I almost thought that for a celebration
that’s close to 1516 years old, people
would be jaded by now. Guess you can
always count on human ingenuity to
always rendition and give something
longevity. It appeals to our need of
heroes. We are constantly seeking for
things to put on pedestals and over-
compensate inner insecurities. Our
hero is not some bloke in red tights,
chocolate wings with a big love heart
emblazoned across his chest who
swoops down to mend broken hearts,
ease troubled relationships and return
the spark in marriages, with the click of
a finger. In our case, it’s a day.
St Valentine’s Day actually celebrates
the bravado of a rugged priest by the
same name, who chose to defy
Claudius’ (a roman emperor) law that
denied young men the agony of
marriage and instead have them be
faithful to the corps where they’d get a
shot at doing something with their lives
(like die for their country) He’d marry
the young men to their beloved ladies
in secret. Grossly inaccurate, forgive my
tone, but the history itself is quite

I’m often mistaken for as apathetic. I
don’t cry at the end of movies or feel
the sudden urge to hold hands with
people (and sing kumbaya) during life
changing moments, but hey, there’s
still a heart that still beats beneath all
that. That’s why I sometimes sit down
and write about what valentine’s
means to me.

I don’t think of valentines as a day to
find love, but a day when the love you
already harbor for someone, gets an
almost tangible representation.
Flowers, gifts and confectionery only
push forth the notion of love, but don’t
birth it. Love has to be present in the
first place; otherwise the day is just a
pretentious farce. What’s important to
ask, is how much do you love or care
for your man or woman, not how
much can you spend to make them go
giddy with gifts. With love, a gift offered
gets a value attached.

Valentines is not about expecting the
person you’re with to somehow
conform to your utopic vision of love,
but rather cherish each random
gesture, or any unplanned or awkward
slip as part of their effort to make the
day a gem for both of you.

Get intimate. No, stash that Kama sutra
book back beneath the pillow! Ladies I
know you’ve been shopping around
for lingerie, and I won’t lie, it’s a
fantasy of mine to walk on petals
leading to my lady in a silk negligee
(the meshy ones make me itch)
sprawled across the satin sheets
signaling a night of wickedness.

365 days in a year. Don’t wait for
valentine’s to offer such treats! The
kind of intimacy I’m talking about is
baring your hearts (you’ve probably
already bared you bodies) to each
other. Whisper the things you’ve been
dying to tell him/ her. Nibble their ear
and whisper. Explore love with a child-
like fascination. Don’t expect them to
know exactly how you feel. Tell it. Every
accompanying action should be filled
with meaning. A hug, a peck, holding
hands, caressing…these should not be
inspired by the romantic flick you just
watched, rather the feeling deep within
to be closer. This way you’ll create a
bond that’ll hold you together longer.

I’m no Chris Hart in this matters, I only
share my point of view. Ultimately, for
vals, do what makes you both happy. I
encourage you to do something new
and different, just don’t let it alienate
what makes you both tick.

Happy valz people!

© Scadden Orina


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