The wife said, “What is the number from where the phone came?”
These kind of things go on continuously in every house, because the wife has already read the number in his diary. And when he quoted the number, the wife said, “Don’t lie to me that it was a wrong number. This is your diary, and this is the number…. Now tell me, what is her name?” – now it is no more his, now it is her: “Tell me, what is her name?”
Under pressure – and every husband is under pressure – he said, “It is nobody, although her name looks like a woman’s name. Her name is Kamala…but this is only the name of a horse. And because it is the season of horse racing and I’m thinking to go to the races tomorrow….”
Tomorrow morning again the phone rang, and Mulla was standing by it. The wife said, “Wait. This time I will take the call” – and she listened and told Mulla, “Come on, your horse is calling!” It is very difficult…one of the most difficult things is to deceive your wife. But man goes on making his efforts, and is defeated continuously.
I have been going to ask one of my childhood friends, Sukhraj, who is sitting here…. For years it has been that whenever he comes, I never see his wife smiling. I don’t see in her that she has come with joy; it is as if she has come just to keep an eye on him, because here there are so many beautiful women, and he is a beautiful man. And this is a world of people who are absolutely free, who don’t live in bondage of anybody.
She comes to me, she touches my feet, but I have never felt that there is any deep love, respect, feeling, emotion. She seems almost like a zombie, and the reason is clear to me. Perhaps it may not be clear to her or to Sukhraj, but I want it to be made clear to them. He would like to come every day; in fact, he would like to live here with me. What is he doing there? – there is nothing left there for him. And when I am here, and millions of people around the world are coming and going every day….
He loved me when we were so young that now even the memories of those days are difficult to catch up…and he is the only one left. I had many other friends: they came and they are gone, but he has remained with me unwavering, because it was not a question of any ideological agreement, it was a question of love. It does not matter what I say, what I do, what he says, what he does; that is absolutely irrelevant.