Men and women -- even man and wife are
foreigners. ~ Mark Twain
Dear Ⓟ
You don’t conceal
your mind. Not only me who has spent his life with you, but anybody would know
about your feelings. You don’t say it in words, but everything is apparent by
your gestures. And you dislike when any woman tries to be intimate with me. You
have shown your attitude to such woman and frankly speaking, they found no
reason to displease you. You are so cordial and submissive that nobody likes to
hurt you for no reason. You demarcate your possessions precisely. I hope you
remember the Italian girl Giovanna who was tactfully put off by you.
How much time is
required when two persons living under the same roof would understand each other?
It seems half century is not enough. The bond changes with time. Infatuation, emotions,
passions and social-moral bonds traverse through different level of the psyche
and consciousness on the path of marriage. When we reach to a conclusion,
something happens to shake the foundation of our belief. We are left
flabbergasted. I never claimed that I understand you, but at the same time, you
were no stranger to me. Simplicity is a dangerous weapon. Innocents have hurt
more people than crooks.
What is the
saturation point of love? What is the beginning, middle and end of it? I do not
know. Nor can I classify my certain emotions as love. I open my heart to every
good listener. I love telling stories with wit, sarcasm and humor. I laugh
heartily. I earn admiration or sympathy at my will. A negative catalyst can
stop this chemical reaction at any time. Why not enjoy the ride while on it?
We were not sure
about the destination when we began our journey. Retrospectively, I have no
reason to doubt that everything happened for some reason. Some lessons were
cheap, others were trifle at great prices. You can’t learn every lesson at the
right price. Life is not mathematics, nor it is a business. I found you in a
labyrinth and thought you too were lost like me, but now I realize a pattern in
it. We spent our life in the labyrinth, but the passage appeared new every
time. So I say benefit of experience is limited. Even in the same situation,
same option would give different results. Boredom was kept away by the newness
in the appearance of the passage, but weariness found its way into the soul.
You were cheerful and I was melancholic when we reached to the opening of the labyrinth.
May be I had started enjoying the confusions it offered. Or maybe I enjoyed
your company in the solitude.
I asked CC what
does she think about our relationship. To be precise I asked her, “Do you think
I love P_.” You know what was her answer. She said “I see there is respect”.
Then she pondered, got perplexed and nodded her head vigorously. She wanted to
say something specific, but was hesitant. Ultimately, she said, “Don’t ask me
such question, I am confused”. I wanted her opinion since she was good at
analysis. I have never asked this question to anybody else, including myself. She
has been on her own in this wide, wild world since her early teens. She got her
education in the school of the world, which even the best universities do not
teach.
If love does not
become respect with the passage of time, it is lost. When passions are turned
into embers, the companionship keeps the fire alive. Her observation was
perfect. Love is not a possession. Love is freedom from bondage. Sometimes I
feel like a cage-bird, but I am as addicted to cage as I was to the labyrinth.
The security and care are my rewards. Adolescent crisis, Mid-Life crisis and
Later-Life crisis is caused by a shift in roles. At the junction you have to
play two roles. The commitment to role playing also strengthened our
relationship.
It is hard to
understand why a man would drop his wife for another younger woman, especially
when he is the father of her children. The woman who gave him moral support
during his early struggles in career, is deprived of the fruits of his success.
He makes financial provisions for his wife and children, but has no time to
share emotions with them. I think it is a crime, not only against his wife and
children, but against the entire humanity. You cannot lust like animals, when
you are supposed to act humane. The sufferings of women are universal. It needs
no language, to communicate. They just know when they meet. Why a happy woman
should feel guilty for the sufferings of another woman? Because she knows her
happiness is temporary.
CC grew up under
the cries and moans of her mother. She grew up fighting her insecurities. She
loved her father. He had all those qualities, which made her proud of him. In a
way, she was of opinion that it was the fault of her mother that she could not
keep him happy and contended. She was scared to live life of her mother, so she
became melancholic, while her own spirit wanted to be cheerful. So she escaped.
Her whole journey is an escape. But she is not running away from a place or
people, she is running away from her own self. That is not easy. The past
haunts until you decide to confront it. Face to face. It tormented her and made
her cry, but she cried on her own, like a brave girl. I hate people who need a
shoulder to cry.
CC shared many
things with me, which I can’t share with you. That would be a breach of trust.
Once, after an intimate conversation she said "I think I should not have
told you these things. This is usually shared between two women.” I was happy
that she talked with me as she would talk to a woman. If I have that much
feminine in me, then my soul can dance in ecstasy.
You like normal,
decent people, because you live a normal decent life. You shove the things
under the carpet. I appreciate this kind of life. You are like an anchor to my
comfort zone. When my ship is on the High Seas, it faces the storm bravely. You
are my strength. I falter, but I falter to rise again with more determination.
Every war has made me stronger and indefatigable.
After CC, Jenny
came. Being Asian she had better adaptations. She had locked her past and had
thrown the keys in the ocean. (She lived on a yacht as crew). She is ambitious
and cannot afford to be emotional. Every traveler has his own search; they find
glimpses of it in our home. We live a museum life. Jenny did not find anything
interesting in our home. My conversation with her was many times sarcastic. She
was hurt by my remarks about her small boobs. She had laughed and pulled her T
Shirt forward and peeked inside as if to confirm. I love when people can take
even a silly joke in spirit.
You might be bored
by now; I will tell you more in my next letter.
Yours
VBG
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© Vipin Behari Goyal
