Kamala Sarup: Beautiful Woman And Her Love

Published: Sun 19 Aug 2007 06:20 PM
Beautiful Woman And Her Love
By Kamala Sarup
This is an article about My friend Janu.
How can she love the creature whom she has not touched? This question pinches me all the time. Is it possible to love such a person? I hesitated.
"My only love of this world...," without a single look and touch he has sent her the above words by e-mail. "Whenever you will allow yourself to feel the extreme of love, the pain and sorrow will be wiped out. My words will provide you a place as the morning breeze does. I am sure that you keep me in the corner of your heart. This is the foundation of your love."
This long e-mail sent by him suddenly increases the beatings of her heart. I wonder how it is that the unseen and untouched love through an e-mail can play such a sensitive role in her heart.
"One can live in a loving atmosphere without physical touch," this is the lesson that she has learned from that e-mail. She too started to send her feelings via e-mail... "When I feel love for you, the moment becomes the most important moment imaginable. The imagination recalls, so sweet a recall, I never expected. I was certain that he would be lovely, like the touch of poem - that our love could be permanent and unbelievable. She inserted these words into her email.
This age, the moment of the internet, has helped her to be the happiest creature of this world.
The cool breeze is blowing outside. She can see the long road to the south of her room. The road is busy. It has become her duty to look up at this busy road.
The road is a road.
It does not lose its track like the heart.
This might be the prime feature of a road. This is the difference between them. The vehicles and crowds make the road busy. The road never hesitates. How happy the people will be if the heart remains inflexible like the road.
She stop to watch the crowd and the children on this particular stretch of road. The streets are busy, teeming, and the people on the street are even busier. Nobody has time to think about others. Indeed, it is good to be busy, but what upsets me is that she find herself alone - alone among the people crowed on this road.
'What I am feeling now is that our way of thinking, assumption and style of life are similar. I believe in deep friendship which I think must be delicate as well. So, can't we join our hands and lead a happy life?" she became almost dumb when an aged man in Chinese complexion spoke the above words to her. It was not easy condition to accept or reject the proposal at once. She felt her heart rapidly beating. Her mind unknowingly concentrated on the proposal that filtered into her ear through a telephone wire.
"I am fond of the marigold (sayapatri) flower. It is my assumption that life should be as delicate as a flower." In the early morning, she transferred this message to her unseen lover through the telephone. She is not sure whether he heard the word flower or not, but what is comfort to her, is that he too, seems as delicate as her; that perhaps he is a poet. She can easily feel his delicacy in his voice.
Although he speaks well and clearly into the phone, it feels as though they are on opposite sides of this earth. Probably, they will never meet and see one another. The result of probability might be positive or negative. No one can say.
And now, yet again, she was watching the people walking on the road while she sit on the bench outside of her residence. Like the people, her hands are busy; there is no cold outside. The environment is sad but somehow pleasing to look at. But she is feeling fear in her heart. A fear that is causeless and unknown, yet it makes her shiver.
"Tomorrow is a holiday, would you accompany me to Washington?"' The
Chinese man proposed to her, offering a red flower. The handing over of a red flower has deep meaning in America. When someone is eager to keep a relationship close, or perhaps wishes to have a bed partner, it is sometimes done. I have heard this from many people. It may not be wrong.
There is no use of matured, platonic friendship to keep a relationship going. One can partake in physical relations even if he or she was acquainted only yesterday. The matter depends on like and dislike only.
She decided to reject the proposal directly. She replied in a civil manner, "Thank you! But, I am so busy that even I have no time to think for myself. Perhaps, I am unable to maintain our friendship for awhile. We both are so busy. We don't have leisure time to spend. It is better to keep our lives separate." He became quite sad and went off without notice. Suddenly, she felt uneasy and felt the need to find refuge in her apartment.
She opened the windows of her room and looked out. She could see the park, the beautiful landscape far off, a military parade, the tall trees and the blooming flowers. They provided her some sense of peace.
"Let's have a friendship then," he proposed. This proposal made her heart and body swing. She dare not stand in front of a mirror.
"Send me your photo?" He spoke in a filthy way, though the temperature was low, the heart beat was high. She went inside the room. Everything was happening so fast as if it was dream. She began yet another email response.
"The sky and hearts should be unified. We are to live for our future and the plans that we imagine. I love you, but I can't send express enough love into a phone, and due to the presence of other people. Our relationship began and developed through email and phone. Our love may or may not unite, but what is certain, is that it will long live like a story or poem."
His e-mail makes her mad every time. Sometimes she weep and forget herself.
"In case we fail to meet, we must continue our love for each other.
Heart to heart love is far more important than physical love. The body decays -- but love is durable. If we accept this principle, we will be one step forward in the field of love and we can dedicate ourselves for the immortality of love." She began to type these words on the keyboard. The tears were falling from delicate cheeks while typing words flowing from the heart.
Nepali Journalist and Story Writer Kamala Sarup associates and writes for She is specializes in in-depth reporting and writing on peace, anti-war, women, terrorism, democracy, and development. Some of her publications are: Women's Empowerment in South Asia, Nepal (booklets); Prevention of Trafficking in Women Through Media, (book); Efforts to Prevent Trafficking in for Media Activism (media research). She has also written two collections of stories. Sarup's interests include international conflict resolution, cross-cultural communication, philosophy, feminism, political, socio-economic and literature. Her current plans are to move on to humanitarian work in conflict areas in the near future. She also is experienced in organizational and community development. A meeting of jury members held on March 21, 2007 in Geneva decided to honor Sarup, with an Honorable Mention International Award for reporting on women's issues.

Next in Comment

On Why The Supreme Court Is A Bigger Threat Than Trump To US Democracy
By: Gordon Campbell
Rogue Poll Or Not, All The Signs Point To A Tectonic Shift In New Zealand Politics
By: The Conversation
Dunne Speaks: It's Time For Matariki Day
By: Peter Dunne
On Why We Shouldn’t Be Pushed Into Re-opening Our Borders
By: Gordon Campbell
The Coronavirus Republic: Three Million Infections And Rising
By: Binoy Kampmark
Altars Of Hypocrisy: George Floyd, Protest And Black Face
By: Binoy Kampmark
Welcome Deaths: Coronavirus And The Open Plan Office
By: Binoy Kampmark
Why Thinking Makes It So: Donald Trump’s Obamagate Fixation
By: Binoy Kampmark
View as: DESKTOP | MOBILE © Scoop Media