Stealing Green Mangoes by Sunil Dutta

Author:Sunil Dutta
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

8

Must Love End in a Tragedy?

Once, we had an agreement between us,

Perhaps you remember, perhaps you don’t;

The promises you made, to be faithful,

Perhaps you remember, perhaps you don’t!

Once, we did desire each other;

Once, we shared life’s path together;

Once, we too were in love together,

Perhaps you remember, perhaps you don’t!

— MOMIN

Why do great love stories end in tragedy?

Was Orpheus destined to lose Eurydice in order that Jean Cocteau could make a fascinating movie? Cleopatra and Mark Antony had to die in the end, Romeo and Juliet, Layla and Majnun, Heer and Ranjha, Anna Karenina—did they have to perish? Why did Devdas die in front of Paro’s house before getting a glimpse of her face?

My love was neither epic nor legendary. Was it going to end in tragedy?

Before Wes left India in June 1982, we had fantasized about our future; we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. But there were difficult decisions, the main one: where would we live?

Wes loved India, but not enough to live there. I could not even imagine leaving my birthplace. Then there was the question of whether I could provide her with the comforts she was used to in America. Who would compromise, and how much?

But agreements could wait. We still had to finish college, to stand on our own feet. There was also that other elephant in the room—Steve Booth, the long-distance American boyfriend with whom she wanted to end up before she had met me. Soon I was going to be her long-distance boyfriend, too. She did not want to leave me; she was not willing to let Steve go, either. Besides, “It is too early for me to decide to marry,” she had said.

I did not force Wes to make a choice between Steve and me. “I don’t care what you do for the next four years. Just come back to me after we finish college.”

It was a blatant lie. I was perhaps the most jealous and possessive man in the world. I wanted no man to ever get a chance to touch her. But why should I fear or be jealous? The Sufi poet Mian Muhammad Baksh has said that “a heart permeated with true love for the Beloved has eyes for nobody else.” I was in love, I did not have eyes for anybody else; if she loved me, she couldn’t have eyes for anyone else.

Insanity provides a great defense against reality; that’s why true lovers must be insane. I was close to being insane, but unfortunately not quite there. I understood the challenges I faced. I knew the American way of life was more open, more permissive, less reverent. She had fallen in love with me, forgetting about Steve, with whom she had previously wanted to spend her life. How long would it take before she would forget me in lieu of someone else? Nevertheless, I was ready to sacrifice my jealousy, my desires, my being, and to wait for her to return.

I had resolved not to abandon love, to let whatever must happen, happen.

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