– The departure of someone like me—a lesser being—has never troubled anyone! Everything continues as before! Your brief visit has merely caused some additional suffering! It doesn’t matter! I’m accustomed to such things! Look after yourself! Tend to yourself alongside your writing! I’ve lived on in your annoyance, that’s all. Must everyone in this world live by love? Is there such a rule? Even if I don’t speak with you, I’ll never forget you! People cannot comprehend love that comes in its season; meanwhile, love that arrives untimely never dies…with each passing day it becomes clearer, emerging from the depths of the heart!
I thought that day how much you would speak with me! I never knew I lived in your heart as mere irritation! People have grown accustomed to false affection these days, so they cannot easily accept pure love. Wish you well, truly well! That’s all I’ll wish from afar! Shall we not prolong this further?
– No one is indispensable in this world. Whether I leave, you leave, or someone else—it makes no difference to anyone. That’s the way of things. The world moves on thus. Even if one loves someone, they don’t need that love. To feel love for another at every moment doesn’t require that person’s presence. A person can sustain themselves by thinking of, by loving someone they will never have, someone they will never meet again. This is a kind of prayer. To live daily, to live with someone in your heart, thinking of them, finding meaning in this—that is great fortune! For me, to love someone means to let that person live in peace as they do, exactly as they are. Pain and emotional torment turn love into irritation, even into hatred.
If you love someone, let them live as they are, don’t compel them to live as you do. In the end, your life is yours, my life is mine, their life is theirs. To force someone to live by your rules is to say you don’t truly love them—you love only your own ego. In the game of ego there is no love, only stubbornness.
– When someone leaves, nothing really changes. Life follows life’s own course! Yet for some people, so much comes to a halt! So much has stopped for me because of you. How much of inner truth can one understand from outside! In any case, I’ve lived on your Facebook in annoyance or even hatred. Wherever you are, be well…that wish remains!
– I’m not certain, but these past few days it’s struck me once or twice that perhaps your ex fled because of this strange possessiveness of yours. Men don’t like it, and those who are creative especially won’t endure such pain. Love someone by letting them be as they are, letting them grow, not by hurting them, not by trying to have them as you wish them to be. It doesn’t work that way. Perhaps some accomplished actor or someone utterly helpless seems to accept such things, but ask your own heart—it’s all pretense. No one lives by another’s rules unless forced. To love someone and yet burden them with obligation—what kind of love is that?
And one more thing. You’re being ridiculously stubborn, repeatedly saying “I am your Facebook, I am your Facebook identity”—such nonsense. Learn to show some respect. Don’t impose your thoughts upon the entire world. That which I happen to believe is alone correct, everything else wrong—ignorance begins right here!
Learn to listen to what the person you’re talking to is saying, learn to think what they’re thinking. To have a conversation with someone means you’re in a two-way communication right now—if you want to turn it into one-way, you need the other person’s consent. You have to understand this much. For you, this Facebook is everything; for me, it’s nothing. I’ve learned this from life. Being removed from your friend list repeatedly, being blocked—that might matter to you, might hurt you deeply, but I wouldn’t give two pice for any of it. Whether someone is on Facebook or not doesn’t change a thing, at least not for me.
You only know about me as much as I’ve decided to show you! Why are you judging me without knowing? How much do you really know about me? And possessiveness? Ha! What do you know about my relationship? Do you know anything at all? I don’t think I need to prove how much loyalty I had toward you. Rather, you go on interpreting me in your own way and be fine with that! I’ve been feeling exhausted lately… I’ve almost stopped explaining myself. Let people see me however they want! What does it matter! I’ve already told you—I can live with your hatred! And blocking? I blocked you because I needed to distance myself from all of you! By blocking you, I was really blocking myself off from you! I’m not afraid of anyone except myself. There lives a reckless ‘I’ inside me. I’m afraid of that. By blocking you, I was only trying to save myself from its grip! Do you know that thinking of you made me dizzy on the street and I fell? Do you know that in these two months I’ve remembered you every second?
I’ve already accepted it—I’m bad! I cause you mental anguish! No one before you has ever explained my love the way you have!
And listen, the person you mentioned—I met him a year before his wedding! He was already engaged within his family! His fault was that he kept it hidden from me! Day after day he acted with me! Isn’t that wrong? You said that worn out by my suffering, he left me. Sir, did you know what you were saying? A deceiver would leave because of my suffering? Do you have any idea of a deceiver’s infinite patience? They never get worn out by anything. No annoyance, no insult, no anger touches them. They’re always sweet-tongued, patient, sincere. No one knows better than deceivers how to weave the perfect web of a thousand words.
Please, just go away! I haven’t held you captive! I’m not calling anymore! Either disappear from my life, but don’t misinterpret my love! If my love is true, you’ll remember me someday! Come then!
—I didn’t want to expand the scope of knowing you; because I don’t judge people, I have little interest in knowing too much about them. The way they are before me right now—that’s what matters to me. Though yes, if I have to make a decision about them or their circumstances, that’s a different thing! Otherwise, for me the present is alive, is beautiful.
I have no interest in who did what first, or didn’t do it. Everyone on this earth lives as they see fit. No one eats at my expense or wears my clothes. Why should I judge anyone? I don’t have the time for it, nor the inclination.
Your loyalty or disloyalty toward me—I pay no mind to such things. Both are your affair. You did what brought peace to your mind. It doesn’t concern me in the least. It truly doesn’t. What am I to do with a loyalty that has left me restless? I would gladly spend my whole life with a disloyal woman who lets me live in peace. Experience has taught me that disloyal women make better friends. The loyal ones carry too much pride, they have a tendency to dominate, they are often plagued by suspicion. Living with them is no different from living in prison.
I have always spoken plainly what I think and have thought. Even those who have caused me immense harm—I’ve never held them in hatred. I simply don’t have the time. There is so much I could do with my time; I have neither the energy nor the desire to hate anyone. To hate someone is merely to generate some excess, imposed feeling within yourself and waste it on something worthless.
You did what you needed to do. Blocked me! Hahahaha… What a thing—Facebook, just one small feature, and what a fuss! Yes, I used to do such things once too. Now when I think of it, I can only laugh! Can you truly block someone from the rooms of your heart just because you’ve blocked them on Facebook with a simple click? And among all those you haven’t blocked yet, do they all have free passage through your mind? Work that is done so easily rarely carries much weight.
I never asked you to think of me. Did I? If you have thought of me, then it must be that your mind found joy in thinking that way. That’s all! What concern is that of mine? Why do we pray for anyone? Why do we think of anyone? Why do we hold anyone in goodwill? Because thinking of them brings us peace, because we find pleasure in it, because it lets us live at ease. That’s why! Why then burden that person with responsibility for it? You thought of me—that is beyond my control. I never forced you to do it. You thought of me because it brought you joy. Or perhaps it didn’t bring joy, but you had no other choice before you. Fine, so be it. But what hand do I have in it, tell me? Why are you telling me all this? Let me tell you something. When my mother calls me to the table at night, shouting my name to come eat, and I’m in the final stages of finishing some piece of writing, and she grows irritated because the food is getting cold while I’m late, sometimes I tell her—I would rather starve to death than endure so much scolding mixed with love. Not everyone wants to live on love; some of us want to live in peace and ease. Living in the indifference of the whole world is far, far, far better than suffering mistreatment to receive love.
I haven’t called you good or bad. I don’t judge anyone. To each their own.
Yes, but if someone entangles themselves with how I live, or if I’m struck by something in their deeds, words, or conduct in some way, then I try to tell them what I’m feeling, how their actions seem to me. I live my way, you live yours. If this is right, then truly I have no concern with anything in this world—certainly not with anyone’s private life! From my position, I am sincere, candid, transparent.
Swine breed in secrecy, lies, deception to gain their ends. Getting away from the hands of such people is God’s blessing, His gift. But yes, if you were my beloved and you tortured me so, expected so much, judged me so much, I would have let go of your hand long, long, long ago. There is no sense in living with such pain. By what logic must I hold on to or remain bound to the very person who has caused me such torment? How many days does a person even live? Who can say what lies ahead, what doesn’t? What is the meaning of living in agony in the present? But yes, once you’ve married, the situation becomes complicated. And if a child comes along, you become utterly helpless! Looking at your child’s face, there are so many things you want to do but cannot. Then death seems easier than divorce. What a difficult life a married person has! To accept everything in silence and spend one’s days wearing a false smile—that is what marriage is called!
People bear their spouses—whom they have married for social and family reasons—day after day. Two people cannot tolerate each other; perhaps each is right in their own place, but one cannot accept the other’s place; somehow they manage, endure tremendous pain, and go on performing day after day…yet they cannot separate, cannot live in peace. What kind of rule is this of society? We live in a pointless society! But I believe that if you don’t marry, you don’t have such obligations. What is the point of staying with an irritating beloved—one whose words you cannot bear to hear, whose company makes you feel diminished? Sorry, I don’t have that much love or patience! Whoever—lover or beloved—gives pain all the time should be left without a second thought, as far as I’m concerned. Comfort is greater than love. Love is not bondage for a lifetime; it is bondage only as long as love lasts. There is no sense in enduring such pain. Love is not immortal; love is mortal—more mortal even than people…who doesn’t know that people’s love dies before the people themselves do! Living alone in the solace of solitude is far, far, far better than living with the torment of loving someone. And if I were unemployed or some average Tom, Dick, and Harry type, perhaps I would have given so much time, patience, and labor. But I am not in that mental and intellectual place.
I have neither left nor stayed. You cannot actually leave or stay anywhere else. Wherever one is, one remains there in the end. I did not interpret your love—no one can interpret such a thing, because everyone loves and hates by their own rules, and none of it is wrong. Whatever I felt your conduct toward me was, at least as it seemed to me, I have told you plainly and straight.
What I think, what I believe, how I conduct myself, what I can accept, what I desire—knowing and understanding all of this, if someone chooses to stay with me despite it all, they stay. If they don’t, so be it. I don’t care if someone misunderstands me; my only concern is that they not understand me *wrongly*. I’m not going to judge whether your love is genuine or false—nor do I wish to. But your aggressive and terrifying expectations, your attacks, were suffocating me. I want to live in peace, and so I’ve made that small request known to you. You’ll come to mind, and I’ll think of you. I see no reason why you shouldn’t, after all this. Many people drift into memory. Some bring with them, when they come to mind, this thought—remember how harshly I spoke to you once? How poorly I treated you, day after day? For no reason at all…
…Why do you place yourself among them? Who in this world stays forever in another’s life, tell me? Relationships are formed only to be broken. I don’t believe in any theory that demands you sustain a relationship even at the cost of your life. Nature loves diversity. What God creates, He also destroys. What He gives, He takes away.
I left…there’s no point saying it. Whether I stay or go—that’s in your hands. You’ll do what keeps you whole. I’ve never lost sleep over such things, and I don’t now. To live by causing pain to others is sin. May those who commit this sin find the stirring of conscience in their hearts!
—Ah! I believe one need not answer everything! I didn’t answer.
But today I’ll say this: I never expected anything from you that would make my small hopes seem so aggressive and terrifying that they could drive you to death itself! The definition of love you’ve given—if we follow it, no one in this world would love at all! Who doesn’t love for their own peace? Who doesn’t love to satisfy the desires of their own heart? Does everyone love day after day without a trace of expectation, simply because loving feels good? Yet I found no peace in loving you, or whatever it was. If I had, I wouldn’t have collapsed unconscious in the middle of the street!
Yes, where were you all this time? And what did you say—that you would have let go of my hand earlier? I didn’t answer that. Though every word has an answer, not every answer need be given; some words you must carry in your mind unanswered.
As long as God keeps me alive in this world, I will never again harbor that “aggressive and terrifying” expectation of touching your hand! Never! And for those to whom the present is always vivid and beautiful, they need to feel Freud’s psychoanalysis with their heart! The present, after all, stands upon the chest of the past and leans toward the future. Even if you want to live only in the present, can you truly manage it? It’s easy to say such things! Do you know why you don’t want to bind yourself to anyone? Because you’re afraid of responsibility, that’s why!
Yes, exactly! Where were you all this time? Writing again on Messenger will take your time, after all! Better you don’t reply to even a single text from me anymore!
I’m saying it again: you should have thought about me differently! Because you’re not ordinary, I’m asking you: what do your experience and understanding tell you? Is Neerja ordinary, then?
Do you see a few loose women on the street these days?
—Listen. There is no such thing as what *ought* to be in this world, nor what *ought not* to be. What exists is only this: what happens, what doesn’t happen; what happened, what didn’t. That’s all. Nothing beyond that. Life has shown you so much, and still you cling to notions of right and wrong? Does such a thing truly exist—propriety and impropriety? What is proper at one time becomes improper at another. What is proper in one region becomes improper in another. What seems right to one person seems wrong to another. Community, duty, claim, education—so many things govern what we call proper or improper. There is no universal standard for propriety.
And here’s something else: there is no grammar to living, no grammar to thinking. However a person lives, however they think without trouble—that is their life, their personal grammar. If a person lives in any way without harming the world, that itself is their philosophy of living. The sooner others accept such a philosophy, the better for the world. And whether you find peace in loving me well or not—that burden is yours alone. I never told you to love me or hate me. If you’ve carried the weight of loving me, the responsibility is entirely yours. You loved me because it brought you peace, because it gave you comfort. If now loving brings you no joy, then don’t. Who is begging at your feet for your love? Why do you ask me to account for what you’ve done of your own will? Out of what pride or satisfaction?
Speaking of expectations? Swear by the name of your dearest person and ask yourself honestly: have I ever harbored even a trace of expectation from you? If I haven’t, why should you? By what right? I’ve already told you—the one person with the most claim over me is my mother, and even her expectations often rob me of peace. Perhaps it isn’t expectation but love itself. Yet I don’t want such a love as brings me no comfort. You think me selfish? Let me tell you something. Even those who dislike me intensely admit openly that they’ve rarely met anyone more selfless than I am in this life. I will work for people, I am ready to give them everything of mine, but I will not cause anyone pain or discomfort in doing so. Whatever I do, I do for my own peace of mind—why should anyone else bear the burden of it? One must live one’s own life. When death comes, all ends; there will be no more chance to live in comfort. Why do mothers say things like “How much longer will I live anyway!” and emotionally blackmail their way through life—who knows! In this world, I have watched many children die before their mothers.
And another thing—if I answer what you say, I won’t cling to it and weep over it, you understand? Keep this in mind. Whoever holds you in their heart will cling to your words and live by them. I say with certainty: I am not that person in any way. Let everyone fare well in their own manner; if there is time and opportunity, at least let the person beside you remain well—in humanity, without forcing anything upon them.
—I am not such a self-satisfied fool as to think that someone who has no time to think of me would weep over my answer and cling to it!
Swear on someone you love and show me an SMS—real proof, not just words—where I’ve expressed aggression or dreadful demands of you? The truth is, you don’t like anything about me, so you go hunting for faults in everything! The pain I’ve carried on my own shoulders—did I ever blame you for it? I knew this love would be repaid this way. But I didn’t imagine it would be so terribly. In my life, those I’ve loved with an open heart—some are still here, some have gone—but none has ever spoken to me quite so cruelly!
I thought, well, he would wish me on my birthday every year, now that he’s married, perhaps he won’t this year. But look—a message came through on the phone! Not everyone is bad. Many people are forced by circumstance to do things; they have no choice.
How much I’ve struggled for that gift of yours… I know! Why should such effort need justification? And pride? I’ve loved you in countless ways, countless forms! You’ve never truly understood this love. That immaculate love—its pride will remain with me all my life. It will! Your words will serve me well in life… but where is the time? Seriously, my job exam is coming up, my life is still chaotic and shattered! Yet I’m still carrying you with me! Ugh! I feel such hatred for myself today! Why am I like this? Was I born only to love and suffer?
— Ha! A text from that deceiver touched you! I don’t know what to call someone like you, so willing to defend falsehood! You know what happens with women… let someone betray them, shatter them completely, humiliate them, do whatever—but if he speaks sweetly to them, if instead of being direct he twists the truth, wraps lies in layers, keeps up the pretense day after day, courts them with careful kindness, walks every cunning path to win them over—then women will love him even after a thousand kicks! They can’t accept hard truth, but they’ll cradle soft lies in their hearts and worship them. Foolish women don’t love the honest; they love the false deceiver. And I see you doing the very same thing! Truly, there’s nothing left to say to you!
— And someone whose heart has remained untouched by my selfless, pure love these two months—what can I say of such a person!
— But you know what? Deceivers are right for fools like you. You don’t have the capacity to accept blunt truth. In your eyes, the honeyed liar is far more acceptable than the harsh honest man.
— You don’t even have the capacity to receive selfless, pure love! You need love wrapped in masks! A person who speaks candidly, openly, from the heart—such a person can never be dear to you! I’m such a fool that I’ve wasted my precious emotions where I gain nothing in return!
— You’re still not understanding what I’m saying! Take me as I am. For me, peace matters more than love, comfort more than affection. I believe: if being with someone makes me feel small, causes me pain, gives me a low feeling, then I have no need for that love—however selfless it may be! The people I’ve loved in this life, most of them don’t even know I loved them. Of the one or two who do know, not a single one can say that I wouldn’t let them live their own lives, that I forced some imposed thing upon them, that I bound them with the smallest expectation, that I harbored even the tiniest hope of return. I love; I ask nothing back. That’s it.
# If I couldn’t give you good feelings, then there’s no meaning in saying I love you.
— That’s exactly why I said it: for you, good feelings are just masked love! A delicate performance where you subtly conquer another’s heart through skillful pretense. But for me, love means this: even if I could never hold that person’s hand, once I’ve touched it, I live with the peace of that touch for the rest of my life, sometimes looking toward that hand, searching for its touch again.
When we read literature, we didn’t think about novels — we thought about the writer. In what context did he say this? What prompted such writing? Is he hinting at something unknown beneath these fine words? We read what’s written, we see what lies before our eyes, what we wish to think about in broad strokes… but is there another world beyond that which the writer wants to take us into? The unsaid, the incomprehensible, the unheard — without plunging into that, it’s impossible to truly taste the essence of life. To understand literature, to understand life, you must understand the unsaid feelings! And I still say this: as much as I’ve come to know myself, you haven’t understood even a fraction of me — or perhaps you never even tried. If anyone else had been in my place, they would have stopped talking to you long ago and left. I couldn’t leave. Bound by some invisible chain. These three months I’ve tried to keep this relationship alive — through text messages on my phone, through messenger conversations, by torturing you. I didn’t want my love to be completely lost. I endured countless insults, surrendered my entire ego, and tried to keep myself beside you. And that’s why I had to hear so much. If I had loved even an animal these three months, I would have fed it before me, scolded it though it may be — it would have searched for me, never left me, given me a little love in return. Yes, I wanted to hear your scolding. In this life, one needs a person to scold and be scolded by. I wanted to see you in that place. You didn’t understand that. You didn’t understand me.
You know, someone wished me ‘good morning’ yesterday, and my chest trembled! I didn’t reply. For so long, even when I read in darkness, I never opened the window. I had stopped looking at the sky. What would someone like me gain from seeing the sky? That very person — I opened the window for you. I looked at the sky. I let light enter my own room. A person who has kept light locked away for all these years, never let it in — that person surrendered himself to light only for you. Does this surrender have no value in your eyes?
After I collapsed in the middle of the street, everyone stared at me so helplessly! And me? I didn’t see any of them — only your face kept appearing again and again in my mind. And you valued me this way! But you know what? However you think of me, however you find self-satisfaction in it — I never wanted to see you this way. And it pains me to see you like this, truly. I feel disgust toward myself. You’ve said many times that you don’t need selfless love. You only need comfort. The truth is, only those who have never received love in life truly know what it feels like to live without it.
# A Dialogue on Love and Humanity
And people like you, whose lives have always been afloat in love, place no value on selfless love at all—you seek only comfort!
Why don’t you say this: if someone breathes in peace without you, why does your breath catch at the thought of leaving them? Exactly! Quite right! My breath was held for many days! Now I need to breathe! I also live, you also live! Go, I’ve freed you!
— You haven’t understood me. But you’ve misunderstood. The second part is simple. You’ve chosen the easy way—misunderstanding! I hurt someone and also love them… what kind of talk is this? How can you keep a relationship with someone you’ve hurt? If you can, those people who manage it—I’m not among them. Sorry! Learn to feel people. Learn to see human suffering with your heart! Be humble, be humane, be human.
— I never wanted to see you this way! Sorry! As for whether I’m humane or not… you know so many learned people, so if you don’t have the time yourself, forward all the messages from these three months to one of them and ask—is there inhumanity anywhere in these messages, is there cruelty? And a truly humane and humble person should have felt at least some burning from this inhumanity! Why not wonder: why did I hurt them today when I never did on any other day? What can I say to someone who doesn’t even have time to think about such things!
— Calm down, calm down! Slow down, slow down!
— May everyone’s inner sight awaken.
— Let it awaken in you first!
— Those whom society considers wise need it to happen in them first!
— You’re judging again! Get out of this! I don’t eat from you, I don’t wear your clothes—on what right do you judge me?
—
If you really love someone, the only thing you can do for them is to let them live in peace. Even hatred is much better than that love that creates pain. Loving someone never means making them a slave to your choices. It’s not love, it’s selfishness. You love someone and you expect many things from them. It means you’re just creating unhappiness for yourself and for them. And you’re solely responsible for all the pains you get. It’s their life, not yours. Either accept them as they are or simply let them go away. Love is never a one-to-one journey. You expect your loved one will do this and that for you, be loyal to you, bring flowers for you, be with you for the whole life, kiss you on your forehead even when they don’t feel like kissing, take you everywhere with them, never talk to a person of the opposite sex, share their personal everything with you… Is it called love?
When you love, love only that—nothing else. If you construct lifelong dreams in that moment of loving and sit waiting, then you’ll only suffer. You love them and they’re well, let them be well! What gain is there in poisoning the present with so many expectations, with the weaving of future dreams? Tell me—do you truly know how long you or they will live? How much of your life span remains? Why poison this moment with so much thinking? The one you love, why won’t you let them live as they are? Will you decide for another person how they should live, all in the name of loving them?
Why do you think that just because you marry her and build a home together, you won’t be able to sit one evening on the veranda, the two of you losing yourselves in the steam of coffee—is that reason enough to shelve today’s love? Do you truly know if marriage is even written in your fate? Leave that aside—do you even know if you’ll live that long? Life’s outcomes escape even God’s perfect sight! We are merely ordinary people.
—Very well, very well! Talking to yourself, are you? Go on, find your peace! Once I learned to push away, bit by bit, the one who left me, I stopped opening the door of my house—except for the rarest necessity. I imprisoned myself. Countless job exams came and went; I sat for none. I would stay in the dark all day! The doctor prescribed me sleeping tablets! I’d sleep the night before and wake at three in the afternoon the next day.
Six months later, by sheer chance, I met you! That was the first time in six months I opened the window and saw the morning. It wasn’t the doctor’s medicines—it was someone’s warm tenderness that was slowly drawing me back to a normal life. It felt like Tithi’s blue towel, you know—I needed someone beside me. Someone… such that when they turn their eyes away mid-conversation, I want to cry out: Why did you turn your eyes from me?
Sir, don’t call this aggressive or terrible expectation—call it the world’s only refuge, the one place of trust! Not everyone feels it. Not everyone’s fortune grants it. Not everyone becomes it. In so little time, you became that place for me. I thought I wouldn’t have mornings without hearing from you! You were becoming that one entity the whole world calls by! You’ve said—rightly—to think twice before making someone your whole world. You were right. I only wanted to give you something worthy of your artistic mind. But after that day, I understood: truly, everything about me annoyed you! So, no matter how much it hurt, before the pain grew too much, I left! I hope you’ll never even text me, however briefly, and waste your precious time. My best wishes to you.
And yes, have you seen the film *Shabdo*? The last part, where the doctor says we all speak, but no one listens to anyone? We call those who can hear natural sound abnormal!… These three months we’ve only hurled words at each other, waging war. No one listened to anyone! Had we listened, perhaps we’d have both tried to understand each other beyond the surface. I’d heard it in *Praaktan*, from Tagore’s ‘Hathaat Dekha’… I must get off at the next station; you’ll go far, and we shall never meet again.
Perhaps we never will. Whatever has been, thanks to social media, will remain—just that much. I can never speak as you do. I can’t say: ‘Why won’t you come to mind?’ So many come to my mind!… I can’t speak such difficult words. But of you, I will say this: All the stars of night are there, in the depths of day’s light!
—Very well. Your life, as you choose.