When I waved goodbye to my family and to my one true love at the Tribhuvan airport last June, I had to fight back the tears that threatened to break loose. Leaving behind my family, my home and friends was difficult. But it was the hardest thing to tear myself away from the man I had grown to love in the few months spent in Nepal. It was a different pain, a different suffering. Isn't it strange that our parents spend their entire lives caring, nurturing, and providing for us, and then there comes this one person who goes on to claim your entire being for the rest of your life? Months ago, when I went to Nepal for my research trip, my mind held only action agendas and unnamed fears. I had no inkling of meeting this person whose impact would be so strong that separating myself from him would wound me so gravely. As usual, my parents were dotingly advising me to look after my health, studies, and to call home often. He hardly said much but when I looked at his eyes, there was an unspoken sorrow so deep that it cut into my heart. My parents' affectionate words were no match for that soundless sorrow. Their years of unstinted love grew faint in the immense glow of his gentle face that promised a future of unstinted love. In the months since I returned, this notion has haunted me -- this changing need for a different kind of love as we age. How the terribly thrilling pangs of romantic love with longings and dreams that are limitless replace the levelheaded parental love that now begins to seem somewhat obsolete is truly one of the greatest mysteries of life. It is not to say that we don't care about our parents or love them any less. But when that special person enters your life, he/she illuminates your being in such a blaze that obliterates everything else. Loyalties shift, priorities alter, not just in your viewpoint, but also in the eyes of those around you. When I call my parents nowadays, they always ask me to call him as well. Of course, that's how parents are. Their children's happiness is paramount to them. But it's really strange how we children become so enveloped in this new found bliss that it becomes all-pervading. Perhaps that's what makes us "children" and not "parents" because we are not yet able to step beyond our own needs in the way parents are. But if you come to think of it, being able to love this other person, this special person, is a step toward devoting your affections in someone other than yourself. And that is the greatness, the beauty of love where the self and the other are no longer separate entities but are bound together by this strange thing called love.....