Overdue: Lessons in Love (for chinmaya)

I do not believe in Valentine's Day-- the only time I had ever celebrated with any formality was at fifteen with dinner by the sea and a pillow stuffed full of chocolates, one for every day of the year. I finished six months of chocolate rationing in two weeks and lost my voice. At sixteen I decided it was a ridiculous concept and never celebrated it again, choosing not to acknowledge the day.

Boyfriends quaked whenever the day drew near and I made my stance clear-- wary of my dismissal being a test, afraid of the frightening female mind. Strange offerings proliferated after my announcement. Gifts that were not flowery enough to warrant V'day wrath, but significant enough to escape death in the event that the whole thing was a trap: a carnivorous plant, a rude limerick, flowers in the name of charity, presents for my cat, not me!

So when I met two strangers in school who wanted to give out free hugs nearing Valentine's Day in response to the 'paid' love (perfumes, bags, clothes, flowers) clogging up the AS1 corridor of NUS, I barged my way into their plans.

Two days later I found myself alone in the crowded corridor carrying a lime green sign that shouted silently: FREE HUGS. Half an hour earlier I had been warned, 'people might laugh, some people say nasty things, but it will be worth it'. Boys walked by in groups giggling, girls smiled and said, 'so sweet!' as they averted their eyes. The uncle manning the store selling sweet nothings opposite me asked me, your boyfriend not angry ah, let you do this? Followed by, you do for what, no money! At some point I felt like I was prostituting my smile, with no one understanding my mission to share good energy or warmth, or free love.

Then they came. The stranger in a backpack that gave me a hug I would remember for weeks; the girls that took turns hugging without hesitation, the surprised friends that stopped in the middle of the corridor to throw their arms around me...the uncle manning the store opposite saying why not? and crossing the corridor towards me, the friend that came back to hand me a drink-- and the multiple other strangers that smiled back at me and gave me more hugs than I could have imagined I would get. No one gave me lousy A-frame hugs. Instead, I received crushing, sticky, joyful hugs, all the while thinking that my sign should have said GIVE ME FREE HUG? instead of FREE HUGS. By that point I realized I was receiving much more than offering.

Most of the people walking down that corridor that did not see me did not see me because their eyes were trained on the items for sale opposite. Most of the people I hugged probably didn't realize I was standing and hugging in opposition to the Valentine's Day price tag. Most of my friends thought it was funny. By the end of the day it really didn't matter-- there was an electricity in the air, tender and humming, and good people everywhere. The neon sign I held spoke in capital letters, but everyone that stopped along the corridor that day greeted me in the quiet space where stomachs meet, the loudest lesson in love.