The Plaster of Thought-Walls: 103

Thought: Seven Hundred Fourteen

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One. Some people shower affection on goats, but when they want to drink milk, they rush to the cow, because cow's milk tastes better than goat's milk. Yet it never occurs to them that the goat, having received affection, is almost obliged to give milk, while the cow is not. I also see some cute fools among them who actually get 'upset' when they don't receive milk from the cow! By the way, even if they somehow manage to collect milk from the cow, they will still return to that same goat afterward. I say this: if you want milk from a cow, first you must give the cow time, give it affection. Then you won't even need to ask for milk—you'll receive it naturally. The goat gets the affection, and the cow must give the milk—what kind of justice is this?

Two. Words we cannot keep should never cross our lips. Words are always safer inside the mouth. Do you know when people lose respect? No one loses respect for failing to accomplish something—failure is an integral part of our existence. But when someone promises to do something and fails to keep that promise, only then does their respect diminish. Commitment is a very serious matter. If you cannot keep your word, it's more honorable to say 'no' directly from the start. Earlier bitterness is far, far better than later bitterness. When you speak sweetly at first but later fail to keep your promise, you receive nothing but contempt from people. I believe that a person who gives their word but cannot keep it lacks even the qualification to be someone's shoe.
Three. Having complete faith in one's own strength doesn't mean diminishing others' strength. Acquiring profound scholarship in a subject doesn't mean it's sinful for anyone else to know about that subject. There's nothing wrong with thinking yourself the best, as long as this belief doesn't create obstacles in anyone else's life. Mental maturity means learning to think well of yourself without thinking ill of others. If someone assumes that whatever they think is correct and everyone else's thoughts are wrong, then understand that they suffer from a kind of inferiority complex or insecurity.
Four. Much more important than wearing a crown is making one's head strong enough to bear the weight of that crown. Many cannot handle the burden of rewards before their time, so one must wait for the right moment. We are rewarded exactly as much as we have the capacity to bear. Receiving something before its time or beyond one's capacity means endangering one's very existence. Why would God give a mirror to someone who will go blind in two days, even if they pray for it?
Five. You can tell what level of person someone is by observing their faults. The faults of higher-level people will never match those of lower-level people. Even if the fault is the same, the manner of committing it will certainly differ. The amusing thing is that sometimes one level's fault or manner of committing it doesn't even register as a fault to another level's perspective! Fault is always a relative matter.
Six. In life you will encounter four types of ex-partners:

1. One who still loves you, because they simply cannot hate you, or cannot forget you.

2. One who doesn't hate you, because they don't have time to hate you, or you are not hateful to them.
3. Who hates you, because the truth is, you could never really love each other!

4. Who neither loves you nor hates you, because you never even cross their mind, or because they are terribly busy!
Seven. You will gradually have to learn to pamper the lies of those whose truths you cannot appreciate. You will have to spend the rest of your life looking at the masks of those whose faces make you burn with rage. You cannot even imagine how many people in this world live day after day taking refuge in lies, simply to maintain peace. Know this: you and people like you are responsible for this. You sing the praises of truth with your lips, yet you can only accept lies, or at best half-truths.
Eight. What has already happened—whether on the right path or the wrong path—dwelling on it means you have nothing better to do with your hands.

What is happening—whether on the right path or the wrong path—dwelling on it means you have some vested interest in it.

People interfere in something only when they are idle or when they have a stake in it.
Nine. When we bow before an image of God, we believe that God is present before us.

When we bow before our father's photograph, we know that our father is not before us, that he has passed away.

The first is called faith, the second is called knowledge.
Ten. There is nothing more torturous than talking to someone who simply cannot accept you naturally, who searches for complications in every word you speak for no reason at all. When someone tries to understand your heart with their mind, trying to understand their mind with your heart only means deliberately causing yourself pain. Twists are delicious in jalebis, not in people. Some people are born as human babies but grow up to become jalebi babies.
Eleven. If I must compete, let it be with someone against whom my chances of winning are slim. If I cannot win, at least I can learn something. On the other hand, if I compete with someone I can easily defeat, two things can happen:

1. If I somehow lose, all my self-confidence will be completely shattered. There is nothing more shameful than losing to someone less capable than myself.

2. If I win naturally, that competition will teach me nothing new. It is far more glorious to be bloodied by a lion's claws than to spin a goat in the air by its horns.
**Thought: Seven Hundred Fifteen**

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One. Living without faith in humanity is very difficult. But what's even harder is living while continuously trusting people only to be repeatedly deceived and hurt. Faith in humanity is like a car's engine—just as an engine helps a car run, faith helps a person live. But you know what? It's far better to push a car with a broken engine, however laborious that may be, than to drive with a faulty engine and end up in an accident. The task may be time-consuming and demanding, but it's completely safe.
Two. Understanding truth but not acting accordingly—this is called cowardice, though not always. Sometimes, it's called self-preservation. Sacrificing oneself for truth instead of self-preservation is another name for foolishness. It's far, far better to stay alive and strive to establish a thousand truths than to die dreaming of establishing just one.
Three. If you truly need someone's help or time, don't even think for a moment that they'll follow your grammar—rather, accept that you'll have to follow theirs. If you can't do that, then abandon any hope of getting help or time from them right this instant. I've seen some people who dream of drawing others out of their shells while keeping themselves locked inside their own. I look at them and laugh: "Brother, why can't you understand that the need is yours alone!"
Four. We learn many things without thinking about why we're learning them. Often, such learning serves us no real purpose.

Sometimes we do think before learning, but the thinking comes from narrow-mindedness or blindness—in such cases, the learning brings terrible consequences.
Five. Valuable people speak according to their work. They have one principle: work first, words later. Their work speaks for itself.

Cheap people speak according to their desires. They have one principle: words first, whether there will be work or not—that can be seen later.
Six. A peculiar trait of humans is this: while they can sometimes hide what brings them peace, they often can't hide what causes them distress—they reveal it. Consequently, they always find someone around them who pushes them toward distress along the very path they've shown. Those who aren't at peace themselves love to see others in turmoil—yes, there are more such people!
Seven. 96% of all love falls into one of these categories:

Love that has already ended in breakup

Love that hasn't broken up yet

(96% of those reading this post are assuming they're in an "unbreakable bond" type of relationship, meaning they must surely belong to the remaining 4% of couples! This is how it goes—no big deal!)
Eight. Freedom from expectations—there's no greater wealth than this. Someone who possesses this wealth can be loved with eyes closed, or their love can be accepted with eyes closed. But someone who lacks this—loving them or being loved by them means both parties must live through intense agony. True love is always free of expectations. Actually, love doesn't cause pain—expectations do.
Nine. If you call so many times,

I'll answer saying, "How are you, sister?"

You think you're loving quite well,

But you don't realize—this is endless irritation!

I'm truly a terrible lover, busy with various tasks,

You'll find better ones on the streets, loafing around all day.

For dreaming, go ahead and love him instead,

For catching dreams, come back in time!
Ten. Some people don't eat because they don't get to taste.
Some people don't eat even when they have food.

Some people don't eat precisely because they have food.

(Those who didn't understand this status, raise your hands.

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Yes, I've seen enough hands, now put them down.)
Eleven. Oh, what airs he puts on!

Come here, brother, come to my chest!

Even if you can't achieve anything in life, you can still sell attitude and eat chanachur.
Twelve. Life is too short. If I spend whole of it in just compromising, when will I enjoy it?
Thirteen. Suppose you're on someone's friend list (not follower list). So if you send that person an inbox message, and despite being online every day, they don't read your message for several days, or read it but don't reply — is there any point keeping such an august personage on your friend list? If I too have done such a thing with you, then remove me from your friend list this very moment. No one in this world is indispensable; some people think themselves indispensable just to harvest a bit of self-satisfaction, and put on airs.
Fourteen. I often get messages in my inbox:

What should I do to overcome weakness in English and mathematics?

When I stand before a mirror these days, I look like that Kolkata Herbal Kolkata Herbal ad with Salman Khan next to a horse.
Fifteen. In this country, even those who are taxpaying owners of groups of companies don't have as many airs (truly) as some honored owners of Facebook groups display.

In childhood, on radio's request-song programs, a song from the movie 'Pitaputra' in the voice of respected artist Anjuman Ara Begum used to play often:

Don't boast about names,

What good are names?

You won't find everyone's true identity in names.

Today, for some reason, the song keeps playing in my ears like this:

Don't boast about groups,

Groups can be worthless too,

You won't find your own identity within groups.

Now tell me, despite having nothing much in your head or pocket, you've become honored owners of so many groups, keep adding everyone to them equally, putting on heavy airs in front of group members... does your family know?
Sixteen. If you can stay without any expectations, come. I'll keep you carefully in my chest. Won't give pain, won't take pain. This much I know.

If you can't, don't come. If you do, you'll have to cry, know this. Better instead, stay well, let me too stay somewhat well.

I don't even know if I have the lifespan to contain love! When I don't know how many more days I'll live, what's the point of taking so much pressure on my head, tell me?
**Thought: Seven Hundred Sixteen**

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One. Talk to me, I'm feeling awful. When a person acts crazy, people apparently find that entertaining too. When people visit madhouses—I mean, mental hospitals—the whole thing doesn't sit well with me at all.
I know none of this means anything to you. You won't even read it. Everything's over, isn't it? But how does everything just end? What did we do? Stop seeing each other? Is that all we ever did—just see each other? Was there nothing else? I don't know what there was for you. For me, there was so much. Will you call all of that my fault?
Why do I have to think so much before sending you a message? Why do I have to be afraid? Why can't I say whatever I want, whenever I want to? Why do I have to hide things from you? Why can't I tell you about my happiness or my pain? Why do I have to follow so many rules?
Yes, I'm acting crazy, but there's no reason to think I'm actually mad. I'm not insane, though you never take anything I say seriously anyway! You don't understand what I'm saying. Despite thousands of messages, I still haven't been able to make you understand what I'm trying to say!
You love everyone except me. You give time to everyone except me. You act as if I'm nobody to you. So many people have a place in your world, but there's no room anywhere for me alone.
Yes, you talk to everyone, more or less. You even talk to people you have no business talking to. Only with me you don't talk. You simply can't see me, while everyone else is right before your eyes. You close your eyes only when you see me.
From you, those people get everything they're supposed to get. Even those people get everything who aren't supposed to get anything. You deprive only me. And you do it deliberately, always!
Two. Whatever I say in this world, you view with suspicion. I don't need to be believed blindly, that's true, but there's no need for so much doubt either. Let me tell you what happened today. I wore a green saree. I looked beautiful. Today's photos turned out lovely too. While coming down the stairs, my foot caught in the hem and I tumbled down just like in a movie. (Though without any background music!) My head and back hurt so badly that I got a fever. I still haven't had the courage to tell Mother.
I did all this to keep tension at bay. Whenever I try to reduce tension, it only increases. On top of that, coming home I saw that message—the one I sent you a screenshot of. She said some awful things about you. I was really upset. You know, when people say bad things about you or make nasty comments, I simply can't bear it! When I have to pretend I don't even know you, I can't describe how terrible that feels.
Of course, there's no point telling you about these hurt feelings. You've never understood me or my pain in your entire life. I wouldn't have expected anything so monumental anyway. For mistakes I never even made, you've given me enormous punishments.
I could do nothing but weep. The people around me who speak nonsense cause me pain, but you have caused me hundreds of times more suffering than that. Enduring constant mistreatment and neglect, sometimes I no longer wish to think of myself as human at all.
You know, I truly wish now that I had never really known you! Or that these terrible words truly didn't affect me! If only I could dismiss them thinking "I couldn't care less!" Why should I suffer from your criticism? If only I could think that you are nobody to me—how happy I would be then!
Three. I write many things to my beloved! But after writing, I delete them again, never send them! What might they think! As far as I know, when speaking to one's beloved, one needn't think about anything—everything can be said freely. Wrong if wrong, right if right—the beloved will understand! Yet one must think carefully before speaking if one wishes to speak in this harsh society! Harsh, difficult people, harsh, difficult words, harsh, difficult arguments...and so much more!
All the harsh words in the world stand on one side, and the beloved on the exact opposite side. One can only love and respect the beloved. For my entire existence rests with them! Alas, such words are pleasant only to write and read—in reality, the matter is not so simple!
Four. We have a sir under whom seven of us—four girls and three boys—used to take private tuition. Sir is quite elderly. I knew him to be good. My other female friends would say, "Sir is no good. He says inappropriate things, sends bad messages." But I myself had never received anything like that from Sir.
Suddenly that day I went to the unread messages option on Messenger and saw how much he had written to me! What filthy messages! Unthinkable. Later I gradually learned that he does this with many others. They cannot speak out of fear and shame. I told Sir that if he continued such behavior, I would tell the Principal everything.
After this, I found I had been failed in the viva. Yet I had scored 83 in the subjective exam. I saw it myself. One girl among my six companions has had her studentship canceled because she supposedly made "false" accusations about Sir's character. That girl attempted suicide and barely survived at the last moment. She is still in the hospital. She is her parents' only child, from a very needy family.
Such things happen in many colleges. Let me tell another incident. Long ago, a senior brother used to say this and that about me. I didn't have a Facebook account then. He would send me nonsense messages on my mobile. What all he would write! That brother has now become a Finance teacher here through the 36th or 37th BCS. He still messages me. But I pretend not to understand anything and not to know him. Because I have nothing else I can do here.
Now our former sir has said such things about us—that there's a group of girls in the department who spread all sorts of rumors about teachers. And our new "sir," that senior brother, has agreed with this, since he too is against me.
On the other hand, all the girls from various departments who used to complain about Sir have now fallen silent—no one says anything anymore.
The principal called me in and asked about everything. I told him the whole truth. The principal is quite decent, actually. He said, "Look, go and apologize to both those teachers. Otherwise they'll both speak against you, and you'll really have to leave this college." What else could I do? That's exactly what I did. I went to each of them separately and apologized, hoping they wouldn't say anything against me.
What happened after that — my hands are trembling even as I write this. Both of them hinted, through gestures and implications, that such a significant pardon wouldn't come without some form of repayment. You've been defiant, you must face consequences. Though they each said it differently, what they wanted was essentially the same. And that senior brother even told me that such teacher-student relationships aren't anything new. These things have happened before. Simply accept what's to come. Otherwise, leave the college.
Hearing all this has made me sick. I can't sleep at night. I go to classes because exams are ongoing. I truly don't understand how to handle any of this. Who can I tell about these things? Who will judge this fairly? No one at home knows anything. The few friends who know haven't raised their voices either. Everyone says, "Just accept it, what else can you do?" I can't think of what else there really is to do. If my studentship truly gets canceled, I don't know what I'll do then either.
Never in my life have I been punished for lying, but every time I've told the truth, I've been punished for it. Can I tell this to anyone? What solution could there even be? No matter how well I do on the subjective exams, the viva is entirely in their hands. If they want, they can throw me out, or they can fail me and keep me here for another four years. I'm terrified.
Thought: Seven Hundred Seventeen

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One. You could easily find a girl who won't talk to you as much as I do, won't trouble you so much. But here's the thing—give her freedom. At least let her talk to other people. Then she won't message you all day long. She won't want to tell you every little thing. Let her understand a bit that there's a world beyond you. Then there'll be no more trouble. You'll live in peace, in comfort.
Surely after being rejected thousands of times, she won't remain stuck in the same place, won't stay and listen to harsh words day after day. She'll be smart, certainly. I pray from my heart that she keeps you well. I couldn't give you anything myself, let someone else at least. May you find completeness. May you never have to come to a small person like me.
These aren't just empty words. I truly wish for this to happen one day. Let whoever is worthy remain in your life. If someone like that already exists, then that's fine. And if not, she'll come. You wait, she'll come. She'll come and block me from your account. Hee hee hee. Let her. That's better too. Hearing that you're troubled is worse than any other bad news in the world.
That you neglect me—I don't feel too bad about it anymore. Every neglect is like a curse. The one who gives it may not understand, but the one who receives it understands perfectly. Keep giving, let me see how much I can take. If you can't find such a girl, I'll find one for you. I know some. But if they ever speak ill of you in front of me, I can't tolerate that—that's why I don't tell you anything, don't give you anyone's contact. You'll find someone yourself if you look.
Then you two together can throw me out. Together you can both give me a piece of your mind. If that accomplishes something! Otherwise, what metal I'm made of, only God knows best.
Two. Well, you can't stand me at all, yet why don't you say anything? Hee hee hee. Seeing my shamelessness makes you feel ashamed, doesn't it? You know, I miss you terribly! Nothing feels good to me. If I could just not tell you these things and manage to stay quiet, it would be so much better. But I can't stay quiet!
I always do those things that have no value to you whatsoever. I understand this too. I asked you to select a photo for me, you didn't! Of course, you're not sitting around to select my photos! You don't have that obligation. Seeing all this from me surely makes you laugh—you have so many other things to do! There's such a difference in our ages too, it's natural that you don't like this whining of mine. Understanding everything, I still can't leave in the end. Perhaps I have nothing else except this one place where I don't get any response, true, but where I can just keep talking to myself!
Sometimes I think, even after all this time, I still haven't grown up! I've remained the same child. The behaviors I exhibit—even kids would roll on the floor laughing if they heard about them!
Here's another thing. Please remove that friend request, it's uncomfortable seeing it before my eyes. Why would you become my friend for no reason? I can perfectly well chatter away with you without being friends.
I don't need to be your Facebook friend at all! I've been telling you this for two days, but you're just not listening! Why are you being so stubborn? Why won't you hear me out?
My heart is heavy these days. And on top of that, you won't listen to a single word I say. You don't even try to understand anything. Even when I explain, you don't get it! It would be better if I could just go somewhere far away. Are you angry with me? You pay no attention to anything I say. I should really just go to some other boy. At least then I wouldn't be ignored for the rest of my life!
Three. I went out this afternoon. My new shoes had given me blisters, and I could barely walk properly. But I had a lot of work to do outside. So on my way back, I carried my shoes in my hands and walked barefoot. Because of the Eid crowds, rickshaws weren't allowed on several streets.
As I was walking back, an elderly gentleman saw me and said, "Hey girl, why are you walking without shoes? Don't you see how much mud and filth is on the roads?" I didn't say anything to him. I kept walking forward, and he was also heading in the same direction. At first, I thought he must have some ulterior motive—why else would he be saying so much!
When I stopped ahead to wait for a CNG, he said, "Oh, I see, your feet are hurting? Why don't you buy good shoes? Oh dear, does it hurt? Where's your home? Is it rented, or your own house? Go on, go on, hurry home quickly, girl. Throw away these shoes."
I was thinking to myself that this man would probably make some marriage proposal or other. This happens to girls sometimes. I deliberately stood there to see how the incident would end. And the strange thing was, I understood that his intention was not to leave until he saw me get into a CNG. Still, I kept standing there. After a long while, he left.
And as he was leaving, he gave such a smile that all my confusion melted away. I can't quite describe the feeling of it. As he left, he said, "Girl, stay safe, these aren't good times, don't step on the ground barefoot in times like these, go on!"
He was an elderly man who spoke to me out of affection, with no other motive whatsoever. People can feel tenderness even for strangers—we just can't imagine this. We automatically assume that everyone is bad. But really, not everyone is the same.
Perhaps this isn't worth remembering at all, but to me it means everything. These are great blessings, at least for me. I'm truly fortunate that I sometimes encounter such angel-like people. Yet without knowing or understanding this man, I had started judging him in my own way from the very beginning. Just because of this judgmental nature, so many beautiful things slip away from our lives.
Thought: Seven Hundred Eighteen

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One. I've been tutoring a boy for some time now. At first, I didn't want to take him on for various reasons, but the family seemed very simple and humble, and somewhat struggling financially, so I agreed. His mother had cried a lot that day. I can't bear to see tears. That's why I took on the tutoring assignment at the end of the month.
So here's what happened: the day before Eid, when I went to teach him, his father was quite surprised. I had only taught the boy for a few days—for such a short period, he didn't really need to pay me, many people don't; yet that day his father left his meal and came upstairs to give me money. He said, "Please keep this money. I should give you more, but I truly don't have much income right now. Since Eid is tomorrow, please take a little break."
I couldn't say anything at all. He gave me very little money, but this sense of propriety—many wealthy, well-bred people don't have it. Another thing: in the eyes of society's so-called gentlemen, he is considered absolutely "lower class." In plain Bengali, he is a barber by profession. I simply cannot forget his behavior. That such a person could be so courteous and conscientious—I had no idea before that day. Perhaps this lesson was my Eid gift.
Two. In most cases,

when someone is in trouble or when you help someone with some work, if you lend them money from your own pocket, your relationship will sour with one person—the one to whom you gave the loan;
and if you're an even more simple-hearted person, when someone is in distress and you don't have enough money yourself, so you borrow money from a friend and then lend that money to the person in trouble, then your relationship will sour with two people—both the one to whom you gave the loan and the one from whom you borrowed it.
Most people don't know how to value kindness and simplicity. Nothing is more heartbreaking than lending money to shameless people without self-respect. In such cases, when it comes time to collect the debt, you'll end up feeling like a street beggar yourself! Of course, until you actually lend someone money, there's no way to know that they are shameless and without self-respect! Such people are certainly despicable, so I believe any firm decision regarding them is justifiable.
The best approach is to lend exactly as much money as you can afford to lose—money whose non-return wouldn't put you in any real difficulty.
Reflection: Seven Hundred and Nineteen

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One. An intelligent person thinks twice before doing anything, while a wise person thinks three times:

Whether it would be good to do the task,

Whether it would be better not to do the task,

Whether, given that this task has presented itself, one should do it or not do it and instead do something else or refrain from doing something else.
Two. There are some people who, rather than putting to use whatever good advice they have heard, want to hear even better advice. They take pleasure in just listening to such good words. Such people generally spend their entire lives merely listening to all kinds of good counsel, but can never put any of it into practice. A fool's mind and a miser's wealth—neither serves any purpose. Their lives are like that of an unfortunate blind man who remains deprived his whole life of beholding the beauty of his most beautiful wife. No, that's not quite right. Actually, such people's lives are even more painful, because the blind man has the desire but lacks the ability; whereas these people have the ability but lack the desire!
The fool—dies staring at knowledge.

The miser—dies staring at wealth.
Three. Anyone can become educated if they wish, but not everyone can shape themselves. People want to walk great distances, but very few can prepare themselves for the path that such walking requires.
Four. There are some people whose intelligence you'll find matched by many others, but in their lack of intelligence, you won't find anyone who can even come close. For such people, living with mental well-being in a world driven by their kind of intelligence is truly quite challenging!
Five. You and I together traversed so many rosy evenings and pitch-black dark nights! So many stories, so much laughter, so many memories...ah!
And these days when you cry alone in the pain of your heart, unwilling to let me know anything,

then I feel a great urge to ask—are your tears now yours alone?
Six. I feel like crying for no reason at all! This happens quite often these days. Tell me, when will I truly grow up? The more my age increases, the smaller I become. I can't deal with myself anymore!
Seven. : You don't call like before anymore, don't send texts either. Is everything alright? No no, don't think anything else—even if the relationship isn't there, the friendship is still intact, that's why I'm asking! I mean, I'm asking as a friend, that's all!

: I've just gone quiet on my own. Nothing serious! And rather than crying every day, I'd prefer to cry a lot one day and finish all the tears in my eyes, that's why all this effort, all this silence. Don't ask about any of this at all. Someone who couldn't take responsibility for my laughter even when he was my lover—I don't want to give him responsibility for my tears even for friendship's sake.
Eight. Add this to your wall of thoughts too—I will live only for you, I will love only you! In tumultuous passion I will want only you near me, like a madwoman I will be consumed only with you! Even when I move away in anger and hurt, I will circle back and fall upon you!
Even if you push me away again, I will come again and sit right beside you. Even on my days of sadness I will stay close all day long! Even getting just a small reply from you will make me laugh with joy! Even sitting among everyone else, I will think of you for no reason at all.
Even in the middle of my studies you will be woven through, in my sleep's haze you will stay awake beside me!
When I wake, phone in hand, I'll look for you first. Finding you offline, my heart will sink again into that familiar sadness. Whatever happens, I will remain yours still.
If I see any girl's love react on even one of your photos, I'll burn with rage—of course I will! Don't think for a moment that I'll stay silent, that I'll endure seeing someone else beside you!
I'll keep you wrapped only in the interests of my love! To hear the sound of your heartbeat while sleeping, to catch the rhythm of your breath, to have your scent clinging to my skin, to gaze at you unblinking in your sleep—all of this is the cherished dream of this entire lifetime!
Do you know even now that someone stays in your room with you? That's my shadow, love! You never noticed! Thinking of you, floating in a thousand such imaginings—this is the main part of how I live. Why, do you know? Because I love you madly! Wildly, tenderly, I'll fall in love with you alone!
However much you push me away, I'll return again and again—you'll see me come back to you! In this one life, I will love only you!
Thought: Seven Hundred Twenty

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One. I had wished to fulfill your wishes,

you were in a hurry to catch that early morning train.

Even today I wonder, catching that train, how far did you actually manage to escape!

I assume you are well; there, I heard it...

you just let out that long sigh!
Two. Don't torment me anymore by treating me this way. I will die then. I am not as unwell for any other reason as I am from not having you. Nothing feels good to me anymore. How can I exist without speaking to you? How I am managing without speaking to you — you don't think about this even a little! You may be able to, but I cannot. Then what should I do — you tell me! Where will I go? Throughout the day, every few moments, my hand reaches for the phone without my wanting it to. Again and again I check whether any call or message has come from you. But you don't send even one message on your own, not even by mistake. How can you do this? Then why can't I?
Now I understand that when a person is alone, they suffer much less from insecurity than when they become involved with someone or fall in love with someone — then perhaps they suffer a thousand times more insecurity. Then the person, who was not as lonely in their previous solitude, finds that condition's impact multiplied many times over in their new loneliness.
When you came into my life, you devoured all my solitude. My old solitude had unbounded freedom, but this new solitude has enslaved me. I have perhaps come to rest again in that same solitude, but the old freedom is no longer there. The old solitude had joy, had the pride that I could live alone, that one could be perfectly happy with oneself; but this new solitude is of torment, it constantly tells me that I am now compelled to remain alone; this is not voluntary death, this is shameful defeat. This solitude is of suffering, this solitude is of fear, this solitude is of invisible chains.
Three. When you remain silent, irritation cannot be understood. Nothing can be understood, really. I have to say that... don't send messages, it doesn't feel good. Otherwise I don't understand. I keep babbling away like a donkey. You know I'm a donkey. Though except for you, no one else knows this.
Why don't you answer me? You feel very comfortable when I'm in pain, don't you? Listen, never mind answers — you don't have to give me anything else anymore. I renounce all rights to everything. Give all that to someone else. If you can be well by deceiving me, then be well that way, keep deceiving me every day.
Let your tears remain with me. I fell in love with you seeing you cry, I never saw you laugh. That's why I cannot leave. I feel that perhaps your tears still haven't stopped. I feel such tenderness for you. I don't speak to you with any ulterior motive. I never had any self-interest.
Only one wish remains. Say goodbye to me. I do listen to what you say. Just as you've told me not to write messages, I won't write anymore. Every day you kill me once, and you won't even know how you kill me. May Providence never subject you to such deathly neglect, not ever, not any day.
Tell me goodbye properly, I am leaving.
Thought: Seven Hundred Twenty-One

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One. I am, after all, a human being! If I don't tell you even the smallest things, the rice in my stomach won't digest, I feel nauseous. What I ate at night, where I went in the afternoon, how my exam went—I feel I must tell you everything. From this side, I can't tell what your mood is like or how busy you are. I like telling you, so I tell you.
Can't you tell from my behavior that I've gone crazy or am going crazy? Does any sane person act this way? Earlier I used to worry that I'm often sick, so if I were to die (I mean, I very well could!) would I never get to see you one last time? That's what I used to think before, though now I don't hope for so much anymore. I just think, if I'm not around, will I at least get a moment to send you a message before leaving? Last night when I was about to message you, I was getting breathless. I felt terrible.
I've come to the village. The network connectivity at our village house is awful. Yesterday too I sat outside all night in the cold, and today I'm sitting here again. The internet doesn't work inside the house. I like sitting here. You know, the most beautiful waiting is the kind that has no end. Alas, I sit here listening for that person who will never speak to me. I want to see the very one I'll never see again. I don't keep any expectations, but a kind of sense of entitlement settles on my shoulders, in my head.
I keep addressing as "you" the one I should formally distance with respectful pronouns. I write enormous compositions for the one I can't even message anymore. I say so much, yet not a single letter of mine can reach them. Oh, one thing—that person asked me whether I sometimes go crazy! Which person, tell me? This is a quiz for you!
Why won't you talk to me? Do you get bored? You have many people to talk to, don't you? Do you love someone? Why won't you tell me? I'd be happy to hear it. Why can't you understand this simple thing? You really are the absolute limit of foolishness!
Well, does everything work with logic, tell me? Can you follow logic everywhere? I don't expect anything from you, believe me. I don't even want anything anymore. I only say with my mouth that I want this, I want that. Will you just say yes, yes, please? I'll manage perfectly well. You don't even say that much. You're terribly miserly. Why are you hoarding all your words, letters, speech? What will you do by hoarding and hoarding? You don't lack for words. Why do you think so much, tell me?
Two. Perhaps I was good at loving falsely,

So carelessly you let me drift away!
If I couldn't be your companion in joy,

Call me suddenly when you feel alone!
Perhaps I was light of a dusty hue,

In neglect you burned me to ash!

When you leave just as things turn good,

May I at least hear news that you're well!
Three. Why don't you change your profile picture? At least then I could catch a glimpse of you on that pretext! Will you buy me bangles? Many, many green bangles? I'm so fond of green. Will you buy me alta? I love alta too, but I've never bought it myself. Will you get me an off-white sari? I bought a white sari the other day. Looking at that sari, I kept thinking of you.
Why did you go offline? What are you doing? Do I... bother you too much when I message during your work hours? When we no longer stay in touch, will you forget me then? Why weren't you online? What happened? You really enjoy ignoring me, don't you? Tell me, how exactly does it feel? Very peaceful? Don't I have any claim on you?
You had asked me not to message you, but I just keep forgetting. The truth is, I'm dying. Help me. I'm going through a bad time. No one stays beside you during the bad times. It would have been good if you had stayed. Do you understand how long eighteen months is? It's been almost eighteen months since we last met...
In my life, even from the person I've loved most, I could never ask for anything. If I asked, I'd surely receive it—there's no doubt about that. But I could never bring myself to ask, not in this lifetime. Only from you can I ask for whatever I wish. Yet among the two people I love most in this world, you are not the first, but the second. The one I love more than you—though I can't ask anything from them, I can somehow ask you for everything!