Friday, June 17, 2016
Men and women -- even
man and wife are
foreigners. ~ Mark Twain
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
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.
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© Vipin Behari Goyal