The song that she hears every day, and will have to hear again and again, says: “Whether you remember or not, once there was a trust between us. Once you used to tell me, ‘You are the most beautiful woman in the world.’ Now, I don’t know whether you would recognize me or not. Perhaps you do not remember, but I still remember. I cannot forget the trust, and the words that you uttered to me. You used to say that your love was impeccable. Do you still remember? Perhaps not, but I remember – not in its totality, of course. Time has done much harm.
“I am a dilapidated palace, but if you look, look minutely, I am still the same. I still remember the trust and your words. That trust that once existed between us, is it still in your memory or not? I don’t know about you but I still remember.”
Why do I go on playing the song of Noorjahan? It is a kind of drilling. Not drilling of your teeth, although if you continue drilling long enough it will get to your teeth too, but drilling into her the beauty of a language. I know it will be difficult for her to understand or appreciate it.
In my sleep when I speak to Gudia, I again speak in Hindi because I know her unconscious is still not English. She was only in England for a few years. Before that she was in India, and now she is again in India. I have been trying to efface all that lies between these two. Of this later, when the time comes….
Today I was going to say something about Jainism. Look at the madness of this man! Yes, I can jump from one peak to another without any bridge between. But you have to tolerate a madman. You have fallen in love. It is your responsibility, I am not responsible for it.
Jainism is the most ascetic religion in the world, or in other words the most masochistic and sadistic. Jaina monks torture themselves so much that one wonders if they are insane. They are not. They are businessmen, and the followers of the Jaina monks are all businessmen. It is strange, the whole Jaina community consists only of businessmen – but not really strange because the religion itself is basically motivated for profit in the other world. The Jaina tortures himself in order to gain something in the other world which he knows he cannot attain in this.
I must have been about four or five years old when I saw the first naked Jaina monk being invited into my grandmother’s house. I could not resist laughing. My grandfather told me, “Keep quiet! I know you are a nuisance. I can forgive you when you are a pain in the neck to the neighbors, but I cannot forgive you if you try to be mischievous with my guru. He is my master; he initiated me into the inner secrets of religion.”
I said, “I am not concerned about the inner secrets. I am concerned about the outer secrets that he is showing so clearly. Why is he naked? Can’t he at least wear short pants?”
Even my grandfather laughed. He said, “You don’t understand.”
I said, “Okay, I will ask him myself.” I then asked my grandmother, “Can I ask a few questions to this utterly insane man who comes naked in front of ladies and gentlemen?”