Hajra Cassim
Feb 123 min
I hate Valentine’s Day.
There I said it! What started as a pagan fertility ritual of debauchery and slapping naked women with raw animal hides, has turned into my worst experience. School brought out the worst of the worst. The prettiest, most popular girls received dozens of red roses, Hallmark cards and traffic light teddy bears. The second most popular received requests from the school DJ to spin the decks at the Valentine’s Day dance complete with a single plastic rose. The third most popular won the Miss and Mr. Valentine’s Day.
Me? I sat at the back of the classroom and secretly opened my Valentine’s letters from secret admirers, smiling. I had to tear up the paper, leaving no trace in my bag. If I was caught with Valentine’s day cards, teddy or a rose, I knew I would be in trouble at home. I was taught that love was an unwelcome intruder amidst a pagan festival. My orthodox family never celebrated the day.
As I grew older, or rather, more mature, the nature of love revealed itself. Red, gaudy lingerie could be found in every shop window. It’s almost centred exclusively on women: the woman needs to be sexy and in return get flowers and chocolate. Then, I read that while wives celebrate on 14 February, while mistresses have their own Valentine’s on 15 February. Good grief!
It seems school uniforms were barely shelved when stores begin displaying beer bread in the shape of a heart, or Sweetie Pies, or a myriad of diabetic coma inducing treats. My worst Valentine’s Day present, although I should never look a gift horse in the mouth, was shampoo and a comb. When I was at college, my hair flowed down to my back, long and thick. I don’t know what the intention was, but I didn’t forget that gift. I was also in a committed relationship with a man “who refused to buy into the commercialisation of Valentine’s Day” or be romantic on any other day.
I am very lucky in love. I get the Valentine’s Day roses, chocolates and secret admirers. But, a couple of years ago it seemed a bit excessive during a global crisis. I was invited for dinner, but gracefully bowed out. I didn’t feel the gees.
A huge disclaimer, if you celebrate and have a wonderful partner, husband or lover, this is not for you. I give you many blessings and hope Cupid smiles on you on that day and hopefully you have a baby in November.
This is meant for those who are single and gatvol, the tired huddled masses, the weary and weak. For the ones who have to pay school fees and buy textbooks before buying chocolate. This is for the woman or man in an abusive relationship. This is for those who get shampoo on the day. For the ones who want a Valentine, but can’t receive it. For those who lost a Valentine to death. For those in committed relationships but your partner refuses to give you anything, for those who are struggling. Salut. Happy Valentine’s Day.
May love surround you all the other days, may red lingerie be in your cupboard long after February, may you walk in love and light always, all the days of your life.