The greatest advantage of loving from a distance is that this love will never diminish. It’s fun to love you from afar—you’re so much cuter from a distance, somehow you become strange when one gets close. How this life of mine is passing by—everything is mine, yet nothing is mine—such is my life.
One evening. Light rain pattering. A girl sits waiting… for someone.
I just mentioned such a moment. The moment keeps knocking in my head. Moving, stirring. Did I annoy you? What can I do! I enjoy being annoying! Please don’t mind, won’t you! I had a dream about you during my afternoon nap today. Do you know what I saw?
I saw that you had remarried. Your wife was in a house. You came and said, “Get ready, my aunt is coming.” The rain had stopped. The trees and plants were all wet. The road was wet. Your wife was walking. A wife in a light sky-blue sari. Walking beside you, she suddenly noticed you were missing. She couldn’t find you anywhere. Then she got scared. She stopped walking. Just stood there. Poor thing didn’t have her mobile with her. Had forgotten it at home. She thought, her husband is a well-known man, some girl might have his number. She asked three or four girls. Then she found someone who had it. She called. When her husband came, what a scolding! Said all sorts of things! You know, seeing myself in that wife’s place made me shudder!
No one is responsible for this dream.
Your fortune. Having someone in life who can love this much is truly a matter of great luck! Though, being able to love you is also a matter of luck!
Everyone is so worried about my marriage! Where I have no headache whatsoever, seeing others’ concern amazes me. From relatives to neighbors, everyone. Especially some overly enthusiastic people. They seem to have nothing else to do, so they’re so enthusiastic about others’ personal matters. But the thing is, they can’t tell me directly about it. Marriage matters! Speaking directly! Tsk tsk! How shameful! How shameful! They can tell my mother, whose brain can be easily washed clean with Surf Excel.
“What do you mean! You still haven’t married off your daughter!” (hand to cheek)
“Make your daughter understand!” (I don’t understand either, arrange for a private tutor for this.)
“Why won’t she marry? There must be some problem!” (Oh, the concern!)
“She’s a woman, what will she do if she doesn’t marry?” (Why do you think everyone is like you? How strange!)
“She has no thought for the afterlife!” (Though it sounds bizarre, I have to hear this too. The most ridiculous thing. It seems they’ve secured heaven by getting married!)
“So-and-so’s daughter got married right after SSC! What’s-her-name’s daughter got married while in ninth grade.” (They don’t even feel ashamed saying such things!)
And the most common dialogue: “Eh, she won’t marry and wants to become a judge-barrister!” (Dear me, whether I become a judge-barrister or work as a housemaid, why does it bother you so much? Do I eat your food or wear your clothes?)
All this time, hearing people talk about them used to irritate me terribly. Now I find it quite amusing! Oh, how everyone worries about me! How many people are blessed with such fortune! And these people look utterly ridiculous to me now. They speak with third-rate pomposity, while I listen with sixth-rate detachment! This country has no shortage of idle busybodies. Golden Bangladesh indeed. We all sit around gaping with endless time on our hands.
Tell me this—is love something very precious? How precious? Or does it have no value at all? Love costs nothing to buy, yet on the other hand, it cannot be bought at any price. Take yourself, for instance—you’ve received so much love in your life that love seems trivial and worthless to you. Am I wrong? When I write something to you, I don’t write it to practice beautiful writing, but to make you understand what’s in my heart. And do you even notice that? Do you understand what’s in my heart? Or do you just count how many spelling mistakes I’ve made and how many seconds are left before my grammar completely falls apart!
I ask nothing of you. I can’t find any reason why I love you. Does love really need a reason? If it does need one, then why can’t I find it? Didn’t you know that if you let me come close to you, I would truly fall in love with you? Then why did you let me come so near? Deliberately? Did you really want to see my suffering? To watch how I writhe in agony for you? You’re a very strange kind of cruel good person. Perhaps that’s why I love you so much, feel such tenderness toward you. These days I can’t tell you many things. I write and then delete with backspace. After writing, it seems foolish, and I think, what am I writing! Thank goodness I delete it! Otherwise you’d catch semantic errors alongside the spelling and grammar mistakes. Though it’s not as if I say particularly meaningful things anyway. My mind feels very scattered. I can’t understand why. So I’m writing whatever comes to hand. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. All these many words I speak have just one essence, and that is: ‘I love you!’
“Love is very expensive. Someone cheap like me can’t afford to pay its price.”
“I’ve never asked you to pay for love, nor will I ever. And… you’re not cheap at all… Listen, why do you call yourself cheap? Don’t you love yourself?”
“I speak from honesty.”
“Do you think that saying such things will make my love for you diminish? Never!”
This is how the conversation should go. Since no one actually talks to me, I weave my own basket of words.
I have a friend who didn’t get into Dhaka University, and God only knows how much she’s had to hear from her family about it. The things people say as she walks by! She’s currently studying Bengali literature at a college. Everyone tells her, “So you’ve ended up in some lipstick subject!” They still call her stupid. Apparently she’s as dumb as a cow! Does that make any sense? She can’t take these poisonous words anymore. She often thinks about turning things around. She’ll do her MBA from IBA at Dhaka University. That way she’ll show everyone that the girl they think is stupid isn’t actually stupid at all. Then they’ll be the ones saying these things. Isn’t her thinking strange? I feel like whether or not someone can get into an educational institution doesn’t determine their competence or incompetence. Let’s say she does get into IBA. What then? Will she suddenly become some highly qualified type? Actually, my friend has lost her mind.
I’ve written a letter for you. Want to see how it is?
Eyes and forehead. They’re so close to each other. Yet often what the eyes find beautiful isn’t written in the forehead. They say it’s all about what’s written in your fate! At some point you have to accept it, but there’s a world of difference between accepting and adapting.
Someone I neither know nor understand—I’ll have to spend my entire life with him. Before he tries to understand me or my heart, he’ll try to understand my body. This is what happens to most girls. Because those two people signed that contract called marriage! Religiously, it’s his right too!
And the one I love like crazy, will always love, he’ll remain locked in my heart. What kind of judgment is this from society?
I’m not worthy of you. I never could be. I’m not good, you’re so much, much, much better. There’s nothing to love about a girl like me. I never even hoped you’d love me. Not even by mistake!
Why did I end up saying so many things today? Don’t take it to heart. Please forgive me.
One more thing…….
I love you!
The word ‘love’—
how small it is. But how vast its meaning. You could compose an entire ocean with just this one word.
How many writers have created countless works of literature from this single word alone. I never cared for romantic novels or stories. Barely read them either. So I have no idea how to love, how to express it. Everything I tell you comes straight from this fertile mind of mine. I don’t know how much I can love you, how much I can make you understand. But whatever my heart says, I try to say exactly that much. But I can’t say it all! Not everything can be expressed in words.
There are certain feelings that can only be felt, not spoken. Teach me how to love more and more! I want to love you even more. I want to touch you, to stay touching you. If only you knew how much passion the touch of those lips creates! Who knows, maybe you don’t love me at all, but in your embrace
a strange sense of safety awakens in my heart. It feels like no catastrophe, no storm can touch me anymore. But this feeling should only arise when two people belong to each other, when two people love each other. So I shouldn’t feel this way. I don’t know why I do. Maybe because that’s what I want with all my heart and soul! Can you tell me why it happens?
Have you read ‘Chokher Bali’? Tell me, do you prefer Ashalata or do you prefer Binodini? Tell me honestly. This is a little test for you. See what audacity I have—I want to test you too. Hehehehe……. But you must answer, though you never answer anything.
I’m dying inside from loving you. This thing is destroying me. Yet I can’t pull myself back. Tell me, once you’ve fallen in love somehow, there’s no returning, is there?
Won’t you suggest a way out! Is there any solution? Tell me!
I’m being serious though……..
You tell so many girls “I love you, I love you” just like that.
Don’t you truly love anyone? Someone special?
I want to see your love and the person you love. Will you show me?
Are you well?
It’s been so long since I
saw you. You were smiling, that special smile,
that so-familiar smile.
It felt wonderful. Even if it was through a phone screen, at least I caught a glimpse of you. Please do me the honor of granting me these little glimpses now and then, sir! When I think of you, I find myself
smiling quietly. I don’t know why the smile just comes. A smile of joy, of happiness. When I see your picture, I feel like embracing you tight and planting a kiss on your cheek. Come on, lean your cheek forward a little. Oh, won’t you! Tell me,
how many times a day do I look at you—I mean, your picture? How many, you say? No, that’s not right. I look all day long. Your picture is my phone’s wallpaper, so I have to see it all day. And you know,
I’m busy with my phone
all day long. Am I really busy with the phone, or busy with you, tell me? This morning I felt awful. When you have terrible dreams, feeling awful is natural,
isn’t it? I dreamed that you were humiliating me terribly, rejecting me completely after all that humiliation. You told me that under no circumstances, not even if I died, should I ever
bother you again. Then in that very dream I cried so much I can’t describe it in words. I wailed and
sobbed. Yet your heart didn’t soften even a little. You left me and walked away. Then I couldn’t bear the pain
and went to kill myself. Still you didn’t return. What an orderly dream!
Do dreams ever become so orderly? Why did I see such a thing?
Are you really so
cruel? Today I woke up
very late. In the hope that I might see the rest of the dream, that you had come back. But no, I saw nothing more. I lay there all that time for nothing.
I’m such a foolish girl, aren’t I? But this foolish girl has fallen quite in love with you despite her foolishness, you know? You’re not mine, yet even in dreams she’s afraid of losing you! Oh,
if only such a day could come
when I could place my hand in yours,
hold you close and say, “I love you
so much. Will you be mine? Only mine?
Promise you’ll never leave!” And
you would trace a tiny kiss on my forehead and say, “I belong only to you. I’ll never leave.” Just closing my eyes
and imagining it makes me think, I have this thought at least, what more do I need!
I know you’ll never be mine in reality,
but must you leave me even
in dreams? In that dream world,
won’t you stay mine a little, darling!
I wanted to treat you to
street food one day. I couldn’t. Now I eat, and you watch.
Hey, tell me, when will you grow old? I have the strangest kinds of desires sometimes. Like right now, I want to see you grow old. I want to see if you’ll wear those thick-framed glasses when you’re old. How will you look with gray hair! Will you walk with a cane? Will you sit around with a betel box, keeping your lips red all day from chewing paan? Will you gather your grandchildren for lively chats? Spitting betel juice and telling them stories.
Oh my! What a delightful scene! I want to be your granddaughter right now! I’ll listen to your stories with full attention and say, “What happened next, Grandpa?” Hee hee hee. Tell me, do you have any photo albums? Not on Facebook, I mean real ones. If you don’t have photo albums, what’s the point of taking so many pictures? Buy a huge album, understand? Then fill it with different photos.
Write a line or two below each picture about what it’s about. When you’re old, when you’re holding court with your grandchildren, you’ll sit with this album from time to time. Show them each picture and tell the story behind it. How’s the idea? Good, isn’t it? Though of course you won’t like it. But this isn’t the first time I’m telling you this. I mentioned it once before, two and a half or three years ago. Do you remember? I know you don’t! Back then you said, “Your idea is quite good. I’ll think about it.” You used to address me formally then. Hee hee hee. It’s funny to think about. I was your “you” with respect! Hee hee hee.
The other day I read that piece about your ‘Dobhana’ that you shared in a comment. Just reading that short piece made me feel such tenderness and pain for that shop, I can’t even imagine how much it hurt you to leave it behind. If I ever find a time machine, I’ll go back to that time and see your dream kingdom. I’ve developed such a strange affection for it.
And listen, about that picture you showed me yesterday of the person you love—I didn’t like her at all. Why is your taste so awful? Drop that girl, okay? Your love is only centered on the body. Why don’t you try loving someone centered on the heart for once—I don’t think you’ll be disappointed!
Well, you’ve finally returned. I’m glad. See how close you feel right now. Tell me, I who think about you constantly and keep saying “you, you”—if I disappear someday, will you remember me, my touch? Or will you forget me completely in the crowd of your countless girlfriends? I read somewhere once that a person can remember a total of one hundred and fifty people in a lifetime. No more than that. Among new people and new girlfriends, I might get lost. Then if we meet again after many, many days, will you recognize me? Will you remember how crazy I used to be about you? Will you remember how madly I loved you? Though your memory is very good, why would someone insignificant like me stay in it!
When I was away from you for those few days, it hurt terribly. All day long I would suffer, thinking of you constantly. Now I suffer thinking about this: when you go away again, how will I survive? No matter how much I love you, I can’t bind you to me. I have neither the right nor the power to do so. One day or another, you will surely leave. That day I will suffer greatly. Perhaps I won’t say anything to you, but inside I will simply die! My love for you only grows deeper with each passing day. Even if you are not here someday, this love won’t diminish by a single drop—rather, it will grow even more. But one thing is true: when you’re close, you can’t quite grasp the intensity of that love. Only when you had gone far away could I truly realize my love for you, could I understand how much I had unknowingly come to love you, how much space you had claimed in my life. I had thought I would never speak of any of this. But somehow I ended up saying everything. That wasn’t right, was it? I should have kept my feelings to myself. Then they wouldn’t have grown like this day by day, and someday I could have controlled myself. Now that’s no longer possible. I loved you, I love you, and I will love you in all my future births.
Perhaps one day everything will remain only as memory. Those boat rides, walking barefoot on the char, our little picnics. No one’s footprints will fall again on my tiny island, perhaps some sighs will be spent in the echoing silence, the krishnachura branches will never bloom red again. The dream of going to the village fair will remain unfulfilled, dreams like the tinkling sound of silk bangles and reddening lips with betel leaf. The pages of my diary too will perhaps yellow and become unfit to read. Drawing a deep sigh, I might think: today the dreams are gone, but is the love gone too? That belongs to birth after birth—it’s not meant to end. I don’t know why, but I feel like crying so much. I can’t understand why. Can you tell me why I feel like crying so much?
Have you read that poem by Nirmalendu Goon? “I don’t reach out my hand to touch you, I reach out my heart to touch. I don’t make two into one, I make one into two.” You read so much. I don’t read that much. It’s not just that I don’t read—I don’t do anything useful at all. Everything I do is useless. It’s rather like only reading fairy tales and only watching cartoons on TV. Anyway, what I was saying. I had started writing this three or four days ago. I was in a bad mood for some reason, so I didn’t write. Today when I went to open my phone notes, this caught my eye. I thought, let me just say some useless things! I always tell you so many useless things, and you read them with infinite patience. If I were in your place, I would never read such things. There’s really no seriousness working in me. Perhaps there is, I just don’t understand it.
I can go
I can go away in any direction
But why should I go?
—Shakti Chattopadhyay
I can give
I can give time to any person
But why should I?
—You
Understanding this ‘why’ is what they call maturity. That thing you mentioned… maturity? It doesn’t work inside me. That’s why even when you don’t want to talk to me, I force conversations; even when you don’t want to give me time, I force myself into your moments. I don’t understand the meaning of your ‘why.’ Maybe I don’t want to understand it either. I want to wander wherever my heart leads me. But not alone—with you. If you were with me, we could walk to the very edge of the world. Didn’t you read fairy tales as a child? Never felt like flying away on a Pegasus? Or swimming in rivers of joy? Never wanted to dance with butterflies or sing in the voice of birds? It wouldn’t be so bad to get lost like that, would it? Don’t lie to me! I know there’s a child hiding inside you. Actually, it’s this childishness of yours that I love most. Tell me, have you ever fallen in love with someone from those fairy tales? Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel, or Anastasia? Never wanted to become a prince for any of them? Though you’re already a real prince! You don’t need to travel to fairy tale kingdoms to be a prince. You’re my prince. Maybe I’m not as beautiful as those fairy tale princesses, not as clever either. Still, whether you want it or not, you’re my prince. The prince of my imagination. In my dreams, sometimes I fly with you on Pegasus, sometimes we wander through fairy kingdoms together. I know I’m incredibly imaginative. I love living in the realm of imagination all the time. Before, I used to wander there alone. But now you’ve conquered that imaginary kingdom of mine. Now I dream of you when I sleep, dream of you when I’m awake. You keep spinning in my head all the time. Other thoughts come only as options. But what else can I do besides floating in imagination and dreaming? I can only feel you with closed eyes, I can’t reach out and touch you. It feels like you live in that distant village where I’m forbidden to go. Can my love touch you even a little? Do you ever understand this love? Or does it seem like mere silliness, like it does to everyone else? Whatever you think, I will keep loving you!
My darling, do you know how much I miss you? Not just now, but every moment I keep missing you. I want to sit in front of you and gaze at you with unwavering eyes, or hold you close, or sleep with my head on your chest. Don’t you miss me even a little? Tell me! Oh well, why would you miss me! Fine, you don’t have to miss me! But tell me, if we lived together, what would our chemistry be like? Would you love me then? I don’t understand life’s complicated rules and regulations. But I think it wouldn’t be good if that happened! You and I are two completely opposite people. We couldn’t live together. This is better then. You’re well, I’m well too. Is the distance between us really creating more distance? Or more love?
You speak so beautifully!
Even speaking so beautifully, can I make you understand?
I understand.
No, you don’t. You don’t understand
anything I’m trying to
tell you.
Are you scolding me?
Could I ever
scold you?
Fine, go on,
you understand everything.
Hee hee hee now that’s
better. Can you play Ludo? I feel like playing Ludo
with you.
I can.
Will you play with me?
Yesssssss……
Let’s play then. When
shall we play?
Anytime.
Sunday Monday Tuesday
Wednesday Thursday—when are you free? I mean, when is work light at the office?
Every day. And then
again, never.
What do you mean?
I mean
meowwwwww……
Fine, forget it,
we won’t play. You’re a busy
person.
If you scold me I’ll
start crying.
Go ahead and cry
a little, let me see. I’ve never
seen you cry. Your smile is so cute! Your crying must be beautiful too. Cry!
Meowwwwwwww!
My cute sweet
kitten! Oh baby! Nooooo……don’t cry, darling!
I’m rambling away.
Truth is, you know what? I miss you terribly!
I love missing you. You might wonder, what kind of love is that! It’s a love that hurts.
I suffer from missing you. And I love suffering for you. Do you understand any of this?
If you don’t, never mind. You don’t need to understand. “I love to suffer, that’s why I come running to you!” What a beautiful song! Do you know who wrote those lyrics? Latiful Islam Shibli. A boy from Natore. Creator of countless popular songs. I’ve watched you laugh, watched you sing. I’ve cried so much watching the rain. You are my first morning. He gave us many more beautiful songs like these. His girlfriend used to live in Rokeya Hall at Dhaka University. Once the two of them were having a quarrel. So he went to see his girlfriend to make up. The two stood in front of the hall. He was trying very hard to reconcile while the girl barely spoke at all! Finally the girl said angrily, “Go away from here! Why did you come to me? To suffer? All I do is cause you pain! Just leave!” “Yes, I came here to suffer indeed…” Shibli said just this much and ran off in the opposite direction! When any girl tells her lover, “Go away!” what she really means is “Stay!” Any sulking girl says one thing with her mouth, another with her heart. The poor thing was stunned by her lover’s sudden obedience and started shouting, “Hey! Where are you going! Don’t go! Listen!” Who listens to whom! Shibli didn’t stop. He had to sit down immediately with paper and pen. A song had come to the lyricist’s mind. That song had to be captured on paper, not kept in memory. Quickly! If delayed, the words would slip away and never return. Words are terribly moody. If you don’t coax them close with affection, they go to someone else, they disappear. Those who write know this revenge of words. His girlfriend’s heart could be won back later, the matter could even be explained afterward. But if the lyrics escaped, they could never be brought back. Never! His strange behavior in that moment would seem like madness to anyone. It’s better to let creative people live as madmen. If someone becomes normal like us—meaning if we can understand all their behavior through our own eyes—then it’s certain that person is nothing special, just one of us. And if someone is like everyone else, it simply means there’s nothing unique to be gained from them. Let creative people not be like that. Better that they remain such madmen. If something beautiful and noble comes from madness, then madness is good! What are we sane people doing that’s worth remembering, worth enchanting others? If necessary, you stay mad, but please don’t stop writing! I understand very well that in the eyes and minds of ordinary people, every creative person is inexplicable, therefore bizarre, strange, unmoored. To understand a genius, one must be a genius. It’s impossible for an ordinary person’s experience or judgment to comprehend a genius! Geniuses should be allowed to remain as they are. Interfering with their work is often nothing more than the envy or anger of the incapable.
Listen, you must stay far, far away from me. I’ll suffer missing you. All right? You’re thinking, why am I choosing this suffering? Don’t think so much about it. Why should I take love from the person I love? Keep all your love for others instead—let the pain be mine. I’ll love you through suffering. Love becomes pure when it’s burned by pain, you know? It’s true! There’s another thing. The human heart is terribly selfish by nature. If I receive even a drop of your love, my heart will crave all the rest, even if it means taking it all for myself. Then it will suffer when it can’t have more. Round and round, the same suffering. So isn’t it better not to receive any at all? I’m getting used to it anyway!
I read your messages hundreds of times a day. Until you reply, I just stare at my phone. This is becoming a bad habit. How can I break this habit—could you tell me, please?
There was a time when you hurt me and I would cry terribly. But now even the pain you give me feels good, though you don’t hurt me like you used to. In one of your pieces, probably written around June-July 2015, “Life, Not Grades” (forgive me if I’m wrong), you once said that in this world, only tears are personal. Tears don’t need to be shared with everyone—they should remain private. Yet look, like a fool I’m telling you all my private matters. You don’t call me a fool for nothing! But you know, I want to do so many, many, many more foolish things for you, so you’ll call me an even more foolish girl, foolish girl—I love hearing that. Hee hee hee. I’ve watched all your videos on YouTube. But it’s been useless. You know why? When you’re speaking, I pay no attention to what you’re saying—I just stare at you with fixed eyes. Suddenly I realize, the video’s over! When I try to start again, same problem. Why do I love looking at you so much? The more I see, the more I want to see. What kind of madness is this, tell me! Maybe because I think about you all day, I end up bothering you a bit too much. If it ever feels that way now or in the future, please let me know. I never want to be a source of annoyance for you.
Why does your house have to be
so far away? How wonderful it would have been if you lived next to mine! Our rooms’ windows would be side by side. I would sit by the window all day long, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. I’d keep a book in my hands, and if you happened to notice me, I’d lower my eyes and pretend to read while stealing glances at what you were doing.
You might get annoyed and shut your window. Or perhaps our rooftops would be adjacent. Under the pretense of tending to plants, I would wait endlessly for when you might appear, just to see you for a moment. Maybe I would come to you for private tutoring. When you’d teach, nothing would register in my ears.
I’d just stare at you the whole time, dazed. Then when you’d test me on the lesson, I wouldn’t be able to answer anything. You’d give me a sharp slap across my cheek. Even while nursing my stinging cheek and wiping away tears, I’d gaze at you with enchanted eyes,
thinking, even your slaps are so cute! If for some reason you had to leave the city, I would stand behind, silently shedding tears.
And sometimes the window would remain closed. The plants on the rooftop might wither from lack of water, yet I would never set foot there. What are you thinking? I’m just imagining,
but why is even that painful? Because there’s a certain joy even in the pain of loving you. There’s a kind of happiness even in those tears. That’s the happiness of loving you.
I used to always
confuse the interaction between love and emotion. I’m quite naive and foolish in that way, you see. Do you know what my worst quality is? My worst quality is that I trust people far too easily. Even when my conscience warns me against it, my heart believes anyway. Someone who betrayed me once even gave me free advice as they walked away:
“Such naivety isn’t good,
be a little clever, or you’ll be deceived at every step in life.” Now you tell me,
should I abandon my naivety and train myself to be clever? I have another bad quality—I can’t stay angry with anyone for long. Well, what do you think about the feelings I have for you—is it love? Or emotion? Most certainly it’s love! I love you terribly,
terribly. But emotion is mixed in with it too. This emotion has given my love its completeness. Now I can understand love and emotion separately. And because I understand, I know how much I love you, and how much emotion works within me for you!
I keep loving you—in every moment, every instant,
with every breath, every exhale. I will love you in the coming year,
the coming age, the coming century, through coming lifetimes too. To me you are ‘Mister
Perfect.’ I used to hear often that no person is perfect. But you seem perfect to me. I love everything about you,
everything! Whatever you do, however you do it, whatever you say, your personality—everything is perfect. Do you understand, Mister Perfect?
It seems to me that love is the world’s most ancient relationship. Tell me, what do you think—how much connection is there between love and physical desire? No connection at all? Or is love merely an excuse to legitimize certain physical relationships? Does simply saying “I love you” make it love? Love may lead to the union of two people, but love cannot exist solely to validate union. If we called the validation of union “attraction,” that would be fine—but when we name it “love,” that’s when all the trouble begins! Why can’t we be a little less hypocritical?
Oh my! How shameless I am! What am I saying! Alright, sorry. I won’t talk about such things anymore.
Listen, I love you, but I never want to bind you in any chains. I prefer to see you fly in the sky like a free bird. You weren’t meant to be caged. I’ll gaze up at the sky, watch the joy of your flight, and love you. Even if I can’t touch you! Is it really necessary to keep you caged just to touch you all the time? Please, never imprison yourself in any cage and destroy your true self.
Do you know there’s more happiness in loving than in being loved? I didn’t know this either, but lately that’s how I feel. I love you so much, I find such joy in this feeling of love—even if you never love me back, I’ll have no regrets. For you, I could stake the most precious thing in my life, even my life itself. Don’t you know this? Of course you do! Then you understand how much I love you! Many people love well enough, but how many can truly love selflessly? I don’t know how much I’m capable of loving, but I love you with everything I have.
Tell me, am I terribly ugly? Do I look like an absolutely hideous duckling? Tell me honestly—don’t lie. Not just to spare my feelings.
Since seven last evening, it’s been raining and raining, just keeps falling. Even now, with this damp weather and dampened spirits, I’ve left my bed. The moment I peeked out onto the balcony—the slap of wet wind, the wet streets, and the fine drizzle made my heart feel even stranger! Doesn’t it affect you too? The clouds are calling in long, slow rhythms, as if to say the entire day will pass just like this.
When I woke today, beyond the realm of sleep, a letter was floating away in the rainwater—written in your hand. To no one else, the name in the address was the one that fits most perfectly. As I was reading the letter in my dream, your face and your beloved’s face floated in the background, like in movies—in flashback. It would suit you perfectly to write such a beautiful letter to someone. The letter mentioned a gift, a necklace hanging from a gold chain…a certain token of love. You wrote, “If you wear it (that necklace), I’ll know you’ve agreed!” Before I finished reading the letter, it slipped from my hands and drifted away somewhere, lost in thought!
None of this makes any sense! No sense at all. Now the rain has picked up pace, making quite a pitter-patter sound.
Lately you feel
so much like my own to me. I feel like you’re someone very close. My closest person. Why do I feel this way, tell me? You’re not close to me at all! In fact, you’re someone very very very distant, someone I can only dream about, someone I can only hold in dreams. And yet I feel this way. When I look into those eyes of yours, I feel how dear you are, how familiar, how close! Maybe it’s because I think about you all day that my subconscious mind has decided you’re its most beloved person. When I’m awake, you occupy my mind and thoughts constantly. But do you know that even when I sleep, you don’t give me the slightest reprieve? For as long as I sleep, I keep seeing you. I saw you today too. I saw that… never mind, I won’t say. The problem is that the dreams I have about you while awake are very beautiful, but the ones I have while sleeping turn out quite terrible. You said I apparently don’t write to you for several million years! Not several million, sir, just three days! I didn’t write for three days. Do you know why? Because of that dream of yours. I had a terrible dream. And after seeing it, I felt so upset with you that I stayed quiet. What are you thinking? Can dreams actually make someone upset? They do for me. I try to match the dream with reality, that’s probably why. Tell me, what kind of girl do I seem to you? Good? Or bad? Listen, I’m not a good girl at all. I’m a terribly jealous, awful kind of girl. I feel jealous of all your girlfriends. So many girlfriends! Still, I close my eyes and swallow every bit of jealousy. But when I sleep and involuntarily see everything visually, how do you think that feels! (Don’t get angry, please, I can’t give up this bit of jealousy. What can I do! My subconscious mind has decided that you’re mine alone. It doesn’t understand anything, it’s foolish, so it only wants to possess you entirely. But the conscious mind knows what a huge lie this is! But I want to live with this lie constantly, I want to live wrapped around this lie, I want to gather happiness from this very lie. Will you stop me?) Do you know that even for a sliver of your smile, one could give up everything with a smile? I had saved that video of you cutting cake the other day. Why? No reason. Just to see that smile of yours. Every time I watch it, my heartbeat skips, yet I watch it again. Just one moment of your smile is enough to fall in love with you. One could spend a lifetime seeing just that much. I saw the new cover photo on your page. I was really curious about something. If I wanted to fall in love with you again after seeing this picture, would I get permission?
Never be angry with me, darling. I never want to hurt you knowingly. Whatever hurt I cause is from my own foolishness. When you’re in pain, when your heart is heavy, I suffer more than you do.
Tell me, why did I fall in love with you? What spell have you cast on me? I had become someone so strangely numb to feeling. Nothing pleased me. Everyone irritated me. If someone tried to speak with me with even a hint of interest, I wouldn’t think twice—I’d block them immediately. I felt that if I met them face to face, I’d slap them twice across both cheeks without hesitation. How insufferable! Yet look what I’m doing now! I feel like a stranger to myself. I spend entire days consumed by thoughts of you. My days pass and nights end thinking of you, thinking of you. I feel you in every breath I take. Wherever I look, I see only you. When I close my eyes, it feels like you’re even closer.
All day long I miss you. When the longing becomes too much, I close my eyes and feel you there. It seems like there you are, so close, filling my entire being. Truly, I can even hear the sound of your breathing then—you feel that near to me. Tell me, why does this happen? Why did I fall so deeply in love with you? I can’t make myself understand, can’t make myself turn back. Where there is no claim, asking for one is the greatest torment of all. Still, I want this small claim from you—the right to love you. Nothing beyond that, not even a trace. Won’t you give me that? You don’t have to love me back—I’ll simply love you. If you wish, I’ll never even come near you. I’ll just love you from afar. I know one can’t ask permission to love. Even so, I want your permission. Without asking your permission, I’ve already made you the king of my imagined realm, I’ve already fallen in love with you with everything I have. If this is without your consent, then by loving you I’ve committed a crime deserving punishment. Give me that punishment.
You call me a silly girl—I don’t know whether you really mean it or if you’re just teasing. But I truly am a very silly girl. Really and truly! I keep doing one foolish thing after another. When I’m being foolish, I don’t realize it. I understand only much later, when there’s no way left to fix it. There are countless examples of this. How many should I tell you? Like right now, the biggest foolishness I’m committing is about you. There’s one difference between this foolishness and my other follies. With the others, I don’t understand while I’m doing them. But this foolishness—I can see it clearly, yet I can’t stop myself. I keep doing it, and doing it still. Tell me, you can see what a tremendous mistake I’m making, so why don’t you stop me? I know that one day I’ll have to pay a heavy price for this. But still, I don’t care at all. Do you remember the first day I saw you? I remember it. Every moment, every instant. That was the first time I saw you face to face. I couldn’t understand what happened to me at first sight. It was as if you had mesmerized me. You drew me like a magnet! I felt I was no longer in control of myself. Even now I’m amazed how such a timid girl became so bold that day. I can still feel every touch of yours from that day, every moment of tenderness, the rhythm of your breathing. When I close my eyes, I catch your scent. As long as I live, these things will never be forgotten. It was the first time in my life I had felt that sensation—how could I forget it, tell me! That very day I surrendered my entire self to you. No matter how much I tried to restrain my heart, it wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t have imagined that the touch of love could bring such profound happiness. I fell desperately in love with you. So completely that nothing else in the world seemed to exist except you. I know these feelings seem trivial to you. But to me they’re everything. That day, my feelings of love transcended all desire and passion. You won’t understand that. Since then, every day, every moment, I’ve been loving you more than before. In this contest of loving you, I keep outdoing myself.
I tell you
constantly how much I love you. But I can never quite say it right. Because I love you
so much that I don’t know the language to make you understand what that means. However much I write, it doesn’t capture even a fraction of it. So
I can’t make you understand. I never would have known how it’s possible to love someone more with each passing moment if you weren’t there. I never would have understood how days can slip by just thinking about one person if you weren’t there. You have
taught me so many things. You’ve hurt me, scolded me, and then said such beautiful things to lift my spirits again. But what’s
the use, tell me! These moments
aren’t eternal. I won’t have you by my side for my whole life, always. Someday I won’t
be able to reach out and hold your hand just because I want to. You who are not mine. You will have to
drift away from me one day or another. This is fate. So I don’t think about the future anymore, I think about the present. For whatever time I can have you close,
that much time you are mine.
In the days to come, I suppose I’ll live clinging to these memories. Tell me, is it really so easy to live on memories alone?
When that day comes without you,
how will I live without you! No matter how much I look at you, my thirst is never quenched. I think, let me see more…more. Do you see that moon in the sky? So close, but I can’t just reach out and catch it when I want to. To me, you are such a moon—one my arms aren’t long enough to touch. Haven’t you heard that song, “My eyes thirst, thirst fills my chest. I am a rainless day in Boishakh,
life burns away in anguish.” I love that song so much. Don’t you?
The world is so cruel,
you know? (I saw an interview with Jafor Iqbal sir.
I was so amused by one of his verbal tics. He adds a little
‘you know?’ to the end of every sentence!) A mine of unfinished stories. That’s why I fell in love with someone
whose love story with me
remains unfinished. I’ve managed to start the story, but I can’t attach the final pages. Will you
attach these final pages for me?
Am I bothering you?
Ah well, never mind. I really am an annoying person. The things
I say, going from one thing to another—no rhyme or reason
to it. I really want to see you. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! Come on, let’s go somewhere far away one day!
Somewhere across the border. As far as we can go. Will you come? Something’s wrong with me today! I just keep wanting to disappear. Forever!
What will I gain from
loving you, tell me? What good will come from loving you? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. You’ll say, is love about getting something in return? I’ll say, can a tree survive without even a drop of water, tell me? I need so much water!
How many days has it been
since you said good morning…do you
remember?
How many days has it been
since you knocked on your own…do you
remember?
Can one live
without even this much, tell me?
I don’t write poetry!
Then why, whenever I try to write something, does it come out as poetry? How do you explain that?
Listen, this isn’t literature! This is pain.
You know why I stay online all the time? Because of you. Only because of you. If you ever get tired of seeing me active… maybe you’ll message me sometime! That’s the reason, you know? I don’t want to turn off my data and go to sleep. If I wake up and see you’ve written “good night,” then at least I’ll have an excuse to message you. Why can’t I fall asleep? Why do I toss and turn from side to side? Because of you! Because of you, you, and you. What a terrifying truth these words are! Let me not say anything more. How do I really want you? What’s the reason for all this pain? Why do I willingly take on this suffering? What obligation do I have? Why did I start writing for the first time in my life because of you? And that too, something that makes no sense? What will I do by loving you? There’s absolutely no reason for it! Just pointless suffering. My own fault! You have no responsibility at all, darling! I wonder why I became like this. I wasn’t like this before. Not at all! This is your doing! Take care.
You busy person! Not busy at all. This is all just an act. I know! Why are busy people so busy? You know, my colleagues have given me a title. The Selfie Queen. The other day they all got together and gave me a big mirror. A surprise gift! Why, you know? So I can dress up even more and take selfies! People have so much to do! Only I have nothing to do. All day I listen to your speeches on YouTube, I watch you. How did this happen? I don’t say these things falsely. I look at you and want to keep looking at you. I listen to you and want to keep listening to you. I love you so much. I don’t know how I fell in love this deeply. I’m in pain all day long. I message you, you avoid me. I can’t bear this neglect from you. No one has ever ignored me like this. I feel worthless. I keep a stone pressed against my chest. There’s so much pain there. You won’t understand! Never leave me. Even if you don’t love me, don’t let go of my hand. I took a nap a little while ago. I saw you in my dream. I saw that I was sitting and talking with you in some garden. After a while, two girls came. You left me and went away with them. I stood there like a fool, staring from behind and biting my lip to swallow my tears. I can’t bear you leaving me. Will you really do this to me? Will this dream come true? I want to hear your voice. You won’t pick up if I call! I know that one day you’ll leave me and go away. That day I’ll cry a lot, but I won’t be able to do anything. I won’t be able to stop you. I’m nothing to you. What if I leave? And what if I stay! When one goes, you’ll find three more. You men are all like that. Why are these thoughts coming to mind? Nothing feels good. I love you so much.
Come on, let’s have a little make-believe love today! We won’t have to marry, won’t need to make any promises, won’t have to find space for each other anywhere, won’t have to keep each other anywhere—just talk a little, please! Nothing at all, nothing really, just a bit of conversation. Actually listen, we don’t even need to talk—just when you’re speaking somewhere, let me hear those words! Whatever they might be, I’ll simply listen. You won’t have to hear anything from me; I’ll only listen to you. I’m even afraid to make a single phone call to you! How long can I live with this unbearable torment? Don’t kill me…………
My entire day passes thinking of you. You don’t give me even a minute’s peace. While eating, sleeping, going out, coming home—even while brushing my teeth I keep thinking, her teeth are so beautiful. With those very teeth she had held me in her bite for so long. Not just that—I was there between her teeth and tongue for the longest time…….Won’t I ever have you again? Like that? Then why did you say that whenever you call me, I should be there for you right away? Before marriage or after marriage? Is there no end to this waiting? Such unbearable waiting? Liar! How many more days until I see you? It hasn’t been that long really, but it feels like billions of years have passed! I’m going mad! How desperately I long for you!………Will you never come again? I had already assumed we probably wouldn’t meet again. Then why did you say all those things that day? Since that day until now, I’ve only been extinguishing the lights of hope. Seven days have passed, even a weekend has come and gone, yet this person is nowhere to be found! From afar, just delivering blows with added bonuses. You’re very busy, I know. Still, I won’t stop putting out the lights. I’m extinguishing all the lights of my own life, one by one. And you remain forever ablaze, dice unthrown! Spreading light, only heating up the heart again and again! I’m melting in the heat of your radiance! Until you turn me into a heap of ashes, you’ll keep giving off this heat. I’ll be destroyed, burning and burning to nothing, yet still your time to come won’t arrive! Why would you come? Does saying it mean you have to? Where is that written? That’s why you keep saying you’ll come but never do. How strange, isn’t it? There’s nothing real in these words, yet how enchanting they are! I’m waiting for an illusive ‘her,’ just as Estragon and Vladimir waited for Godot. She will come to enjoy, I will go to feel. How I love even her enjoyment of it! That’s why I wait! Humayun sir, where are you? Please give me some rebuke as a prize, because the weight of my waiting is heavier than yours!
It’s been many days since I’ve dated anything. Today I feel like it. April 7, 2016. Eleven-thirty at night, plus one and a half minutes.