Valentine's Day is over. All the love has gone. Slowly, the pink decorations come down and reality takes over: classes, mid-terms and more work. The Hershey's Hugs, the heart-shaped balloons, the teddy bears and countless red roses, all wither away into oblivion. The perfume-coated air has frozen up again and all that remains is a memory of a day spent, hopefully, with loved ones. We've written another page and filed it under "love" for future recollection.

Introducing the skeptics' Valentine's Day: a rainbow of pink, red and other disgusting colors. People walking around daydreaming, bumping into others without a care. Flowers being plucked and sold at exorbitant prices and ordinary chocolates relabeled as love potions priced thrice at their real cost. The torturous levels of public display of affection tearing holes in their lovelorn hearts and the innumerous sales "valid only for couples," making a mockery of consumerism. Another useful working day spent gallivanting about town in cute dresses and well-combed hair. Every girl looking like a made-up Barbie, waiting for her Ken to magically rescue her from the inanities of life.

I was a skeptic. Pink was never an obsession or a passion. Roses, I hated. Balloons, I wanted to burst. I'd boycott the day for weeks and not have a word to say about the fools in love. If you were in love, why need a day to believe so? Why need a day to tell the ones you care for that you do? It was just another Hallmark holiday. With an ever increasing market for love, it only meant more profit. A card, some chocolates, a bouquet of flowers and a small gift. The sacrifices I've made. Bon Jovi's latest CD still shelved.

Something had to break. Skepticism is never really any good. Why do we need a day to buy a flower and make someone else's day? Why this farce, this exaggeration of emotions? Why treat it as a day to make up for lost love, for mistakes that were made, and for redemption against all our forgetfulness over the year? Why bribe forgiveness with sweet-scented gifts? Because we are human.

We are but mortals who grace this earth in search of dreams to hold and lose our grip on things that can never be held. We take things for granted. We have an entire year to do all the things we want to, express all the love we have bottled up, but who has the time? It's like a bottle of champagne chilled and opened on one chosen day. A celebration for all that has passed. We need this day. We should be happy we do. If we can make time to be grateful everyday, then three cheers, but at least we have one day to consciously make the effort. And we should.

Mother's Day, Father's Day, Secretaries' Day: We need these reminders. We don't need to spurn them, be sickened or believe it's all part of a big money racket. We don't need to boycott, we don't need to hide away. We don't need to buy flowers or cards or chocolates either. We don't need to wear pink and walk hand in hand. Just find a day to be grateful. Any day. But if you forget, don't worry; the world has made it easy for us to remember.

For all those skeptics: Life goes on. We worry. We drink. We try to forget. People try to lead our lives. We lose sight of our goals. Then one day someone comes along and helps us see the world clearer. Somehow it happens to be around Valentine's Day. Why now? Why this fervor? The truth is, it has always been there. We need to look, hunt, maybe even fight. We need to believe, to want, to desire. Such is life. You only get what you truly attempt to get. There is no luck. There is no fate. Work, aim, strive, try. Try harder. At the end, the tree will bear fruit and then it shall no longer be forbidden.

Then wait for that day, and thank them for all their love. Thank them for their belief and their sacrifices. Make them happy. Please them. Years later, when you want to remember those days gone by, find that bookmarked page. For now, prepare for Mother's Day. You can wait or you can tell her now. Either way, it's OK. End note: Bon Jovi's latest CD, I heard, was not good.