To Sudhangshu

Sudhangshu, I am leaving. You will live a beautiful life and take your leave from this world — my blessings remain with you.
Why I am leaving, I myself do not know. I am not leaving out of anger or wounded pride.
Someone within my heart speaks unceasingly, saying again and again, "Enough — time is up!"

Yet see, how many words remain unspoken!
We were to grow old together, laughing and playing, we were to sit by the river's edge with our feet in the water, watching a thousand sunrises together, night after night we were to weave patterns from our scattered stories — all this remains undone, Sudhangshu!
Perhaps everything remains this way — unfinished!

You only wanted to see me by candlelight, when everyone slept in the deep night you wanted to take me to watch the moonlight.
Nothing came to pass in this life. Your time and mine never aligned!

Sudhangshu, I may be leaving today, but you — saying "I'll be right back!" — fooled my eyes and left long ago, and I couldn't understand then that you were leaving forever.

All these days I refused to believe you had gone, but now I understand — when for eleven months you've been spending your days quite well without seeing me, when your days pass just fine without speaking to me, it means you can live quite easily without me.

But what shall I do — that's what I'm thinking. Where will I go? No one will love your little madwoman the way you did, no one will accept all my unreasonable demands, my pouting at every word.

I can write no more, my eyes blur with tears. With this letter I send some salt water from my eyes.
Read this letter. While reading, don't you dare cry! Crying makes you look terrible! This time I am truly leaving. My Sudhangshu, stay well. If you stay well, your Charu will stay well too.