Reflection: Two Hundred Eighteen.
……………………………………..
How much pain can a person endure? Is there truly a limit?
I want to see the very maximum—through myself, if need be!
If you do not wish
to remain in my life,
if you will not allow me
to be a partner in yours,
then I would rather suffer,
but never again become a beggar in this way.
I know
how great my capacity to endure is! I am suffering, let me suffer even more, yet I will remain distant,
that is what you want, isn’t it? So let me remain just so! Yet I will persist somewhere or other—you’ll see. From the day you gave me the right to think of you as my own, didn’t you understand that someone would persist this way? No matter how many storms come,
no one has been able to force me to make this supreme truth false,
to step back two paces and retreat, or to be tempted to lose myself in something else and find the new. I have always lived with you,
I will live with you alone.
There is a limit to enduring wounds as well. At least there should be some reasonable cause for showing the indifference to bear them! You understand everything, and because you understand, is that why you have crossed that limit repeatedly this past month? I understand this too—
no relationship can be forced or one-sided, and until now it was not so. Somehow or other there was your pull on the thread as well. Light though it was, you bore some of this burden properly, even when you stumbled, you never let go. You ran away suddenly too, though quickly you picked it up and extended the pull even more. But this past month has brought many different things. And so the thread’s spool is taking me ever farther from you with its solitary pull,
I understand. I am not so uncomprehending!
I understand rightly. It is because I love that I live as one uncomprehending despite understanding all.
And so within me that ‘I’ finds its place—neither near you,
nor anywhere else. Perhaps I have no dignity, but that
‘I’ has some honor! Why should it not have its pride then?
It will remain homeless in just this way,
you’ll see!
Remember one thing. I can solve my problems entirely alone,
I used to tell you everything only because I thought of you as my own. I can clear away the obstacles of my world all by myself. I walked alone for a time without you, I already know how to walk alone. I can walk alone, as I have been able to do before, always. This time let it be anew once again. I will walk alone on that path if you truly have no time. I will manage perfectly. I could once! I will learn to recognize the path again with my own strength. The strength has not been lost after all,
I have simply forgotten to put it to use. See,
when I begin to walk alone again, what I need, that ‘I’ within me will give me.
My desire was to be your partner; in work,
in thought, or in some other way. I never wanted to make you a box for storing my problems,
rather I wanted to become a box for storing all your problems.
Am I increasing my own unrest?
Where my peace lies,
what brings me solace—have I not told you? I have told you this many times. Yet you keep me severed from your personal life. The mind is such a strange territory. Here, whatever else may work,
force does not. I still possess enough mental strength to understand this much. I am not so uncomprehending. You know this too. Do you realize how much I love you?
Do you see what I live on?
Why do you remain blind only when it comes to me? Why?
Will you tell me who or what I am to you?
I am keenly interested to know the precise conception in your mind. Undoubtedly you love me very much. But what am I to you—this I need to know. As much as I understand you, surely you understand me even more. Why I want to know this,
you certainly understand. I do not want your love for me to end,
though I know you will gradually lose all longing for me! If that is to be, then I know what I must do. That is why I ask. Why do you not answer? Do not remain silent. This question of mine may seem like madness to you,
but to me it is the very meaning of being alive.
I had decided never to speak these words to you again. But reading today’s notes, especially
the ‘Story of the Green Envelope,’ the urge has grown fierce again. To keep talking endlessly with you. You are not near me,
yet my daily survival revolves around you. Your picture, opening your inbox—I have learned lately to find peace just by sitting here without saying a word. I go to your profile,
touch the message button,
and stare with unwavering gaze. It feels as though you are right here with me. Just as a devotee finds peace sitting at the idol’s feet in a temple,
exactly like that. Sitting here, I close both eyes and feel you in my awareness,
you caress me tenderly. Every touch of yours drowns me continuously in waves of bliss. And on your side you just watch in silence. No matter how unwanted I feel while thinking of you, while digesting your indifference, no matter how my body’s hair stands on end with humiliation, from this side I float in heavenly joy. And all the lessons of my life seem to reach completion step by step.
I know you want no additional trouble. Yet you have become the sole companion of my existence. Though for one who lives this way, what difference would it make if they died!
How long it has been since you have even called my name!
Mother says,
one who receives no punishment for their mistakes
can never become elevated. Well, am I making a mistake? Will I receive some terrible punishment?
In my case, what would becoming elevated mean?
Thought: Two hundred nineteen.
……………………………………..
Do you know that you create mental pressure on me?
For the past four weeks, I haven’t been able to do a single thing properly. I come to the university on Saturdays,
don’t attend that day’s classes, instead come home and spin a heap of lies about what I did there—
that’s no problem either. Sunday, sleep after classes,
then a little bit of studying. Then from Monday to Thursday you pressure me to convince Labanya to agree to go out with you on Friday!
I can’t do anything else. All my time gets consumed trying to figure out how to persuade her. Honestly, there’s no work more wretched than this. You probably don’t know how small one has to become before her, how much flattery one has to offer. Yet I do it all to fulfill your desires. Fear also works—what if I don’t do this and you cut off contact with me!
Do you understand how terrible I feel when I can’t do something for you?
I love you immensely. The other day you called me a liar, saying I fabricate stories for you without even speaking to Labanya—I laughed when I heard that. You are a person of great stature. But know this for certain:
the measure of my love exceeds even that. I fall in love with you every moment, again and again. Falling in love is one thing, and loving is another. I love you deeply. Do whatever you wish, but never belittle me, never think less of me. I was never worthy of you,
am not today,
and never will be. I am insignificant,
so I remain. I am very fortunate to have received even a little of your love. Accepting spoken love is one thing,
and understanding silent love is another. I can comprehend your love. And because I understand it, I’m helping you fulfill the dream you harbor about my closest friend. Do you know how it feels to hand over the person you love to someone else with your own hands?
That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. How painful this is—
you will never know.
Shall I tell you something? That balcony off your kitchen? If you throw something over that side, there’s no problem. No one will see,
won’t understand a thing. Throw away the t-shirt I gave you from that side. I love you very much, sir.
Tell me, don’t you feel like knowing what I do all day!
You clearly don’t enjoy telling me about yourself—I understand that. That’s why you give such evasive and wooden responses.
“I’m fine, you stay well,
everyone at home is fine. Anything else I need to say?”
From whom did you learn to answer like this? What is all this? “I’m fine. How are you?” My relationship with you isn’t built on such question-and-answer formalities. I want details of your entire day’s minutiae. That could even be in one word,
one syllable if you’re busy. But it should never be such formulaic robotic responses. That single word you speak should tell many stories,
many conversations,
and convey countless emotions. Don’t you understand even this much?
Labonnya doesn’t speak to you anymore? You two are nursing quite a sulk against each other. Listen, why don’t you break the ice today? She’s the younger one, isn’t she? That photograph I showed you just now—I got it from her. See how perfectly the two of you complement each other in it. You’ve patched things up so many times before! Just once more… So what if she made a mistake? Can’t you forgive her? I feel like showering you with affection right now. Those hands of yours, then your earlobes and… I can’t think anymore. Some inexplicable tenderness is making my eyelids heavy, my breath quickening, every hair on my body standing on end, my lips trembling incessantly!… I’m terrible, aren’t I?
Do you know what the greatest torment is for women who work outside the home? The unwanted excitement of certain men around them! In the workplace, one can at least pretend not to notice, but the real problem occurs in public transport. You can neither speak up nor endure it! When the male passenger beside you is clearly in an excited state—evident from his scent and furtive touches—then…! Totally unexpected! You have to huddle into yourself, covered and contracted, sitting in stunned silence. The mental strain of enduring such long journeys sometimes makes me wish I could pay for the seat beside me too, just to keep it empty! Only my means don’t allow it. No one will ever understand this suffering of women. What would be the ratio between women who must travel outside their homes and those who protest against such indecent behavior from men? At most, one hundred is to five! Even if we arranged to teach our women the world’s finest self-defense techniques, they still wouldn’t escape this torment. Why not? For two reasons. First: those willing to learn such techniques, or able to avail themselves of the opportunity, constitute perhaps only 5% or less of that vulnerable group—I mean the group that faces such masculine lust on the streets daily. Second: no matter how much self-defense women learn, those who do learn will succeed in thwarting these beast-like men at the right time and in the right way in at most 30% of cases. The plan to prevent such sexual harassment by teaching women self-defense is merely a utopian scheme—sounds wonderful, but utterly useless. I’ve painted this picture in the context of all Bangladesh. Until our mentality changes, no strategy can free us from this social torment. If any relief is possible at all, it can only come through enacting strict laws on this matter and implementing them properly. The fatigue of travel, the jolting of vehicles, street dust, the irritation of traffic jams—nothing disturbs me except being the cause of this unwanted masculine arousal.
Have you noticed something? The reaction is identical—when I receive it from whom I desire, I feel complete, but when it’s unwanted, it becomes shame! How strange, isn’t it?
Thought: Two hundred and twenty.
……………………………………..
Listen, I love your ‘you,’ not you.
What restlessness had been working on me since that evening!
From half past eight at night, I could no longer seem to breathe. I took the keys and came up to the roof. Even the vastness of the open sky couldn’t overcome the suffocating world pressing in around me!
I was compelled, then, to make this difficult decision. I must accept you today, at this auspicious moment—just thinking this lightened my heart. I performed ablution and sat down on the prayer rug. I have taken you as my own through socially sanctioned means—in secret, yes, but I have taken you!
Some insects, they say, die after mating just once with their partner! Think of it—their entire life’s preparation is solely for that union. After that, nothing remains, only pure emptiness. I have had you only once. Yet with that blissful memory I can live on silently, in pride, in solitude, for eternity,
just as a dead person lives on for a lifetime.
Whenever I go out, Mother always asks me to bring this and that like children do…things like ice cream,
chips, chocolate, burgers,
fried chicken, tehari, fruit,
and so on. Sometimes I bring them,
sometimes I forget, and sometimes I take that same old stance……..
I can’t bring all these things! Do I have ten hands? Why should I bring such random stuff for nothing—doesn’t it cost money!? Or I say, on the route I’m coming from,
what you’re asking for isn’t available there. Or I say, instead of eating a three-hundred-taka burger, why don’t you eat bread with curry and take a piece of chicken leg for ten taka! When she mentions French fries, I say, does it make any sense to buy one potato fried for two hundred taka!?
I’ll just cut up potatoes myself and fry them in oil for you to eat—there! Heh heh heh……..
Sometimes Mother listens quietly,
and sometimes she scolds angrily— Hey!
You won’t buy things for me with my own money,
and then you show me accounts of money!? Do you earn anything!?
What a stingy girl, where did she come from! How did this one end up in my house!?
Heh heh heh……She’s absolutely right……I do have to be a bit stingy……All the people in this house are unrestrained, so to keep them reined in, I always have to play the miser quite enough…….heh heh heh……
Whatever the case……today she told me—bring some really big bananas. I went to buy bananas. While buying bananas, I gave money to three beggars and sent them away. When you give money to beggars, they keep coming one after another. In the midst of this, a child came. I asked the banana seller to give the child one banana from the ones I’d bought.
The seller wanted to tie a rope around the bananas and hand them to me. I said,
not like that,
put them in a bag. He searched around nearby shops and after a while brought a plastic bag and put them in. I said,
not like that,
wrap the bananas in paper,
then put them in the plastic!
Then the two of us together wrapped the bananas in paper and with some effort stuffed them into the plastic bag. Seeing all this drama, the man with the seller asked, what’s all this packaging for!?
I said, on the street, I can give bananas to at most three or four beggars if I want, but many of the poor people on the street might see them and feel like eating bananas. But I won’t be able to give to all of them. Therefore,
food that I can’t give to everyone, I shouldn’t show the temptation of that food to everyone either.
The banana vendor’s face, twisted with intense irritation, transformed into a smile in an instant.—Right, right, right! You’re absolutely right, apa.
I often see people on the street buying this and that, carrying things away, while a certain class of poor people or street beggars stare at that food with such heartbreak. It makes my heart heavy too. Alas, it’s not right for someone to possess both poverty and humanity at once.
Listen, write all the water lilies blooming in every canal and pond in Bangladesh in my name. Please, won’t you! In exchange, I’ll give you my beloved mango tree. Truly! That tree bears Suryapuri mangoes—sweet as honey!
Got your text. My heart lifted! From now on I’ll wear only blue saris. Blue suits me—I never knew before. No one ever told me! You said it, therefore it must be true.
Sir, I love you!
I’ve seen love for me in your eyes! These eyes of mine cannot see wrong!
You know, for nine years I used to talk with one dada—Anirito dada. On the phone, on messenger. I never met him in person. We haven’t spoken for the past 5-6 months. This morning I learned he died two months ago. It’s so hard to accept. How fragile our lives are, isn’t it?
Thought: Two hundred twenty-one.
……………………………………..
How strange! Didn’t I tell you I would know exactly? What I imagined you to be like on the night of the 17th, I saw exactly that way in the photograph today, even Sukhjoya. That sherwani, red dhuti, that nagrai; Sukhjoya’s red sari, the ornament on her head—I saw it all in my imagination. I saw it before your wedding. Truly. Everything matched. You know, it felt so good to see. Say, won’t you show me the video?
I wrote some words that day. Will you read them?
Blessed Wedding Evening
Today is March 17, 2014
Today is the wedding of that person whom I loved so much that I once moved away from a decision I’d made during my time of solitude. What happens, happens perhaps for the good.
From that precise moment I became his completely. In meditation, in consciousness, in sleep, in dreams—there was no one but that one person for me, and there isn’t even to this moment.
In exactly thirty minutes the ceremony will begin. The mantra that will be recited in your temple today, in this auspicious moment, sitting here, will also be uttered by my voice. From today you remain mine in a different way. In joy and sorrow, in every touch.
I am in prayer, I will remain so, Debadatta!
Knowing your astrological sign was very important to me. You told me that. I felt much relieved by it. No trace of anger remains in me now. From now on, you’ll find me with Joya. So take twice as much care of her! Otherwise, how will I get my share? Look into her eyes—you’ll find me there too. I pray that she may be able to make decisions just as I would. May she be your companion in all your work, just as I would be. Touch her and see—you’ll find me there. She will shield you from all sorrows, just as I would. Give her lots of love—it will reach me directly.
From today a new life begins—yours, mine—ours. This unity of ours will never be broken.
In answering two questions, I have to say one thing with my mouth and keep another in my heart—behavior that goes profoundly against my nature. And in this tug-of-war, my own spontaneous life seems to grow murkier day by day. This path of life that I’ve traveled so far—it is my life after all! So I measure distance in my own way, with my own life, without comparing myself to anyone else. However much of the path there may be, I have crossed it. Yes/no—straightforward but the most difficult answers of this kind have carried me forward all these years.
But now I can no longer seem to carry such answers. Just remaining in a dream. There’s no problem in staying—the problem is losing myself somewhere now and then!
Let me tell you the two questions—
1. What does your brother do?
2. Do you have someone in mind?
You know the answers. You should know them. Because I share them with you. The answer to the first: Brother is a businessman. You can surely guess what the inevitable follow-up questions will be, and what answers I’ll have to give…
But alas, I have to say, pulling a smile across my face… Yes, I’m still unmarried.
The answer to the next question is: Yes, I have someone in mind. Very much so! Someone for whom all the eligible men in Bangladesh fade before my eyes. You know who that is too. I’ve told only you. I’ve told you directly about my choice. What? Haven’t I told you?
Here too, I have to say with a dry mouth to everyone outside… No, I don’t have anyone in mind.
I know that perhaps in seven to ten years I won’t have to hear these two questions anymore. But what will torment me terribly from time to time will be: What do your children do?
Tell me exactly when and what I should do. Carrying my own burden alone, sometimes this desire naturally arises—let someone I want take my hand, lighten the load. Let that person think about my thoughts, even a little!
What I had written two days before that…
Good morning, bridegroom!
How excited you are,
isn’t that so?
I won’t be able to come to your wedding, you didn’t even think to invite me. And here I have seminar duty fallen on that very day. One has to inform people beforehand,
don’t they? Only then can time be managed!
Let it be!
Invisibly I am always beside you in all your good deeds, and I have also said
‘no’ to the bad ones,
you know that, don’t you?
Will she have her haldi ceremony today?
Is yours tomorrow? That’s how it usually happens for us.
Oh! How much I want to see it……….
May you both be very happy!
May you remain surrounded by such color and everyone’s blessings for life.
I am always with you both. Whatever I have,
it all belongs to you too. Otherwise I will never find completeness in anything.
Reflection: Two hundred and twenty-two.
……………………………………..
(Don’t scold me,
all right?)
For several days now I have been suffering from inner conflict. I cannot find any solution to the storm that is raging within my mind. But,
how reasonable is this storm itself? One side of my mind says,
this isn’t right; the other side says, nothing wrong is happening. What should I do?
You know,
how much I liked you, how much I like you?
When I broke up with my boyfriend,
I was utterly shattered. I became alone,
lonely, largely by my own choice. I couldn’t bear anyone’s voice,
not even a little noise. Then one day, you came to our university at the invitation of our literary organization ‘Chilekothha’. But I, for some reason of busyness that day, didn’t go to hear you speak. So many people, such commotion,
none of it appealed to me. I prefer being alone,
just my own company. And,
you know what the biggest truth is,
I hadn’t even heard your name then,
had no idea who you were. I had imagined some bald-headed,
pot-bellied, old man would come to give some advice. Don’t laugh, I really thought that. Some days later it appeared in YouTube video suggestions—Chitrāngada at Chilekothha. I was sitting alone. I thought let me watch a bit. That was the beginning, I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen until it finished. How strange! Everyone else was perhaps listening to your every word with great attention. And me! With wonder-struck eyes I was only gazing at you. Your gaze,
your way of speaking, your smile drew me like a magnet. I was counting your every step on the stage.
(Off topic. I read in Pratibha Basu’s Mahabharat’s Maharanye,
“Chitrāngada was extremely strong,
also extremely arrogant. He regarded everyone as insignificant.” Don’t mind it, are you also like that? For some reason,
you seemed a bit like that to me. My judgment might also be wrong. Forgive me if it’s wrong. Tell me, who gave you your name?)
A full 6 hours, 9 minutes, and 40 seconds! It changed my entire life. No, don’t think that hearing your words made me leap up to rebuild my life, or that I thought I’d turn everything around right then and there. Nothing like that at all. Because my mind wasn’t focused on your words—it was focused on you. I don’t know what happened, but I fell in love with someone completely unknown, unfamiliar, about whom I knew nothing, whom I had never seen before my eyes—yes, exactly that. You might be thinking, what a ridiculous girl, it’s barely been a few days since her breakup and she’s already fallen for someone else! But if I do fall in love, what can I do about it? Did I fall in love on purpose?
But if I had known you earlier, perhaps I wouldn’t have gotten involved with anyone else at all. Whether I could have you or not, I could have spent my time just thinking of you.
Anyway, that day I searched for your name online afterward. And I was truly dismayed! Why is this person so popular! Ugh! How is this fair? If you weren’t popular, I could have at least tried to talk to you! But that wasn’t to be! With so many people in the world, why did this person have to be the popular one?
But the internet is such a convenience! Otherwise, how would I have seen you, and where would I have found your photos!
I lived surrounded by all your YouTube videos, your blog, your photos and such. And yes, I had followed you on Facebook to read your posts. It wasn’t that the subject matter of your posts always entered my head—it did, but the thing was, you had written these, therefore, they were required reading! But I never commented or liked anything out of fear—what if I got blocked! Not even a single message.
I could spend hours upon hours just looking at your photos. There wasn’t a single day that passed without me wishing you good night—though only in my mind. My boyfriend had become my habit, while you were my fondness, my tenderness, my love. When I felt very low, I would watch your videos on YouTube, feeling as if you were right there beside me.
I’m talking shamelessly, aren’t I? You must think me very brazen?
Well, think it—no problem. I’m telling you, after all, not someone else. You can’t even imagine how many seeds of fantasy I’ve sown in my mind about you. I’ve been drenched with you in the rain, taken ocean baths with you, watched full moons with you… What do you think? The ravings of a madwoman? Fine, consider me mad. Is that better now?
I never tried to contact you. There were several reasons for this.
For instance, what if you blocked me! That was my biggest fear. Everyone said you apparently block people quite readily! And another thing—I had fallen in love with someone who was beyond my right to love. Neither society would accept it, nor religion. But I didn’t love you for any particular reason, nothing at all—I simply saw you and loved you, accepting from the start that I would never have you! That’s why I wanted to love you from afar. Where there’s no hope of having, trying to have is mere foolishness!
The day you got married,
I don’t know if I felt pain or joy.
I truly don’t know. Because,
though I knew
you belonged to that distant sky,
that your touch would never be mine,
still I ached like a fool. Yet I was also happy thinking you’d be content with your wife. Hehehe…..
Am I rambling too much?
When anyone spoke ill of you, I’d get terribly upset. I even fought with a few people in their inboxes. Because,
as I said, I was too afraid to ever comment publicly. If I had, the fight would have happened right there on your comment thread!
That day, I don’t know why,
I ended up messaging you!
Why—I truly don’t know myself. Perhaps one expects less from someone married than from someone unmarried,
or expects nothing at all. That’s why. I could feel in every fiber how helpless I was before you. Your every word,
every breath, stirred storms within me.
Now close your eyes and read this! I’m embarrassed to write it.
After my boyfriend’s betrayal, I never felt even the slightest physical attraction to any man. It’s not that I lacked opportunities. Women actually suffer terribly from such opportunities and their pressures! The thing is, even thinking about it disgusted me. After talking with you that day, something happened—
I don’t know what. I truly don’t know. Perhaps you thought me shameless. But believe me, I’m really not like that. I’m actually a very shy girl—at least with everyone except you.
Didn’t you say that day
that physical intimacy can’t happen without emotional connection?
I imagined the fulfillment of my love in those words. Only I know what tempests rage within my heart. The agony of having you near yet watching you drift away—I cannot convey that in writing.
What has become of this? Your distant sky was better than this. I could fly freely there, scatter colors at will.
I will never intrude into your personal life, I won’t. Don’t be afraid.
In reality, you belong to someone else,
but in the realm of imagination, you are mine. Though I know
that exists only in imagination.
I will never appear before you. I cannot even imagine
what would happen if you actually stood before me!
Postscript. If you’re very angry with me, please block me. If you’re somewhat angry, scold me a little. And if you’re not angry at all, send me a smiley. Sorry for addressing you so informally. And these words aren’t meant to be shared with anyone,
so I told only you. And I’m deeply sorry for everything.
Reflection: Two hundred twenty-three.
……………………………………..
Circumstances are ever-changing. May this wretched state pass quickly!
What is causing you such anguish?
I’ve sent some flowers on Viber. You must have checked them. Don’t the flowers lift your spirits? And those two little girls like dolls beside the flowers?
Give them a little affection. You’ll see—
you’ll find yourself smiling!
Listen here, you,
I simply couldn’t go on without sharing this with you,
understood? You sulking monkey!
Let me know when your anger subsides,
will you?
Swarochish, why won’t you speak to me? You’re not even responding. What’s happened to you?
Say something, won’t you? I feel so restless!
Then why do I keep talking to myself around you? If you’re just going to remain silent,
I might as well not say anything to you at all, right? But who will make me understand this?
You tell me!
Just as you’ve pushed me away from everywhere else,
perhaps I should retreat into the shadows from here too. That would be
best! Imagine,
this evening is the last evening of my life. What do you say?
You cannot even fathom how many thousands of times I’ve died for you in this lifetime.
If I don’t live to die once more after today,
what will become of us?
“Liberation lies not in divorce, but in tasting freedom within the bonds of marriage.” ~ Annadashankar Roy in his autobiography
Fifth place in the ICS on his first attempt. Only 3 were selected that year. He took the exam again. The next time, he came first. He wrote that he had taken the ICS specifically to come first. Whether he would have written such a thing had he not secured first place—that’s worth pondering. Can anyone really take such a difficult examination merely to come first? Annadashankar was first class first in Honours too. Same in IA. In the lines above, playfully rephrasing Rabindranath, he had shared his thoughts about marriage before his own wedding. Happily, the phrase “happily married” didn’t remain a mere oxymoron in his life. He called marrying Leela Roy, the non-Bengali American girl, one of his two greatest achievements in life—for several reasons
. . . . . . .What has your experience with marriage been like? Do tell!
One of our friends used to say constantly that he wouldn’t marry,
wouldn’t marry. He would become a monk, he claimed. Later, of course, that friend of mine didn’t find liberation through renunciation. Rather,
he was the first among us
to get married. Now his little daughter can say on the phone,
Auntie, how are you?
Ah! Sometimes intense resentment
turns even someone who could have been a father into an uncle!
What sorcery!
What mystery!
How many relationships shatter into fragments from sheer ego before they can even come together. How much delay comes from misunderstandings, how many proud lovers return as brothers! The seven-fold bond loses its way and seeks answers in the simple thread of rakhi!
Alas! One’s own girlfriend causes more trouble than someone else’s girlfriend. Therefore, a chicken is better than a girlfriend—if nothing else,
at least you get free eggs.
Known feelings
Don’t abandon carelessly
to the realm of the unknown…….
That’s sinful!
Those who don’t understand, I can still explain to them,
But those who understand—
how do I explain to them,
tell me!
Even understanding,
drawn by false pretense
Don’t live in ignorance!
Why with such hatred
have you kept me alive—
I never learned.
Don’t keep
silencing me
like this again and again……I am being depleted!
A heart blinded by love’s suffering might forgive,
but suffering will not forgive…….
Remember—never!
Suffering has less mercy than you.
My suffering—doesn’t bind you, I know.
Your suffering—doesn’t push me, I accept.
Don’t let me live, yet keep me alive—to love.
Damn feelings—damn suffering—damn love—damn attachment—damn all these desires—damn it all!!
Reflection: Two hundred twenty-four.
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The only way to alleviate present suffering is to invite more suffering into life. This is no easy task. To motivate themselves for this work, people seek inspiration. Through reading various texts, listening to lectures, watching videos, people want to be inspired, to mentally prepare themselves for arduous effort. When sorrow overwhelms a person, inspiration works like magic.
Rather than running hither and thither in search of inspiration, it can be drawn quite easily from religious scriptures. The world’s greatest philosophical works are the religious texts. We are foolish because instead of gathering life’s essential wisdom from religious scriptures, we collect materials for quarrel and conflict.
I have written below what is said about the mutual relationship between joy and sorrow in four religious texts (arranged alphabetically by the first letter of each text’s name). If anyone can hold this jewel in their heart, they should never have cause for despair in life.
In the fifth and sixth verses of the ninety-fourth chapter Al-Inshirah of the Al-Quran, it is said:
Fa-inna ma’al usri yusran.
Inna ma’al usri yusr.
The meaning is:
So verily, with hardship comes ease.
Verily, with hardship comes ease.
In the Mahasatipatthana Sutta of the Majjhima Nikaya, the second of the five collections in the Sutta Pitaka section of the Tripitaka—the authoritative compilation of Theravada Buddhist scriptures preserved in Pali—it is said:
Through suffering and tribulation, the human soul is purified; as a result, sorrow and torment are dispelled, and the body, feelings, mind, and other mental virtues develop; humans find the right path.
In the twentieth verse of the sixteenth chapter of the Book of John in the Bible, it is written:
Truly, truly, I say to you, that you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; you will grieve, but your grief will be turned into joy.
This means:
I tell you with certainty, you will weep and lament,
but then the world will be immersed in joy;
you will suffer, yet your suffering will transform into joy.
In the twenty-fifth sub-chapter of the Shanti Parva, the twelfth book of the Mahabharata, Vyasa says:
Sukhasyānantaraṃ duḥkhaṃ duḥkhasyānantaraṃ sukham.
Na nityaṃ labhate duḥkhaṃ na nityaṃ labhate sukham॥
Sukhameva hi duḥkhāntaṃ kadācidduḥkhataḥ sukham.
Tasmādetaddvayaṃ jahyādya icchecchāśvataṃ sukham॥
This means:
After joy comes sorrow,
after sorrow comes joy.
No one suffers perpetually, no one enjoys happiness perpetually.
After happiness, sorrow will surely come,
sometimes joy follows even after sorrow.
Therefore, one who desires eternal happiness
must relinquish both.
Nothing more is needed to inspire oneself—simply embracing the philosophy of the scriptures in one’s heart and practicing it regularly is sufficient.