So this is the photograph I took. And this is the picture I made. This is the difference between my photographer’s eye and my digital art eye. The picture I made has become about The Three. The stars around which my planet is orbiting now. Two of them might already be gone. Maybe all of them will go. Man stands alone in the world.
in the love of the world
in the desert of the world
there is an oasis
the water is cool and fragrant
the water is the kiss of a mother
it takes the thirst of the desert
and by it
grows one lone tree
which casts a shade
which cools the water
which touches the heavens
Just to hold her hand once. To kiss it. And to put my palm against hers.
I am listening to Arabic music instrumentals on Spotify as I write. The sound is melancholic.
In a moment, I will get up and shave off this beard from my face. I want to give up. But tomorrow, I will see her again. Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow, the Tiger will still be the Tiger. Tomorrow, the hero in love will still be the hero. If you have loved, never fear. If you have loved, you can lose everything. But you cannot lose your courage.
phenka humne phool
i cast a flower
Uskein taraf
towards her
Us mein dil tha humara
within it was my heart
phenka humne phool
i cast a flower
jis mein chehra tha uska
within it was her face
phool ne kata humein
the flower cut me
koi shikayat nahein
there is no complaint
phenka humne phool
i cast a flower
uskein taraf
towards her
usmein jaan thi humare
within it was my life
Ukrainian women are exceedingly beautiful. I talked to one today. No one knows my type. I don’t tell people.
It was a moonlight night. I was in the country of the Arabs. I was in pain. There was the water. The stars glided across the water, the lights of the night. In the crowd, I saw a beauty from the heavens, an angel. She had forgotten her way and come to earth. She walked towards me. And then? She walked towards the boat on the water. I watched her going. My heart was breaking. In the beautiful night, the invisible rain of tears knitted themselves into the fabric of the sky. She walked away, I sighed. She walked away, I was flooded with melancholy. Across the water, I watched the boat depart. That moment is caught in my mind. It was Her. It was She. I watched my life walk away from me. And I stood there like a corpse, sighing into the windless sky.
So. Three women. There was supposed to be one. And when she was the only one I had and could think about, she didn’t say yes. Then the next one didn’t say yes. And now there are three. Difficulties with all three, including the one I haven’t asked out yet (maybe I never will – we will see).
With Helen (who is aloof but not nasty – although she has a temper as well – I have seen it) and Girl 3 (Main Frenemy, fiery and with my temper), the job is to rebuild everything and change their mind. It is going more successfully with the frenemy, believe it or not. Because she has my personality. Potential girl also has my personality. But with her, there are certain considerations and she is like Helen which is dangerous. In that she will treat a friend like a boyfriend and then hurt them when the moment comes. So you will always be unsure with her and you could be in for a lot of pain. And, like Helen and Girl 3, she can’t decide. So the best thing would be to leave her alone. But the thing is, can you think rationally about these things? You can’t. So with her, there is the cautious, cautious approach. If it looks like it, I will go for it.
Why not give up on all of them? If it is this difficult? Because I care about them and want to be with them. I think about them. I am intoxicated with them when I am around them. They might not think about me. But what can you do about that? When you have chosen someone to be with you, you don’t want them to be gone out of your life. I have known them all for a long time. I can see what they are like. Once you have them, they will be trustworthy.
In the Hindu religion, my mother’s religion, the mother goddess takes various forms. We are not like the West. We don’t just worship one goddess or one god. Our love is modelled on worship. You can love more than one woman. But you are only allowed to marry one. That is the modern condition. But without being able to love more than one woman, you would be screwed. Because when they disappoint you and turn you down, your life would be without any hope. Because how would you be able to love someone else? How would you be able to find the substitute to move on?
But Paris chose one out of the three. He chose the goddess of love.
Before in life, I moped when I was disappointed. Years wasted. When I could have been building a life. Because in some deranged way, I didn’t want to move on. Now, I will move on. I don’t have the time to waste any more. I have got through three disappointments in a row. Two at the same time – one from Helen. While I am watching and waiting for these three women, there are some potential candidates that have come into life recently. And they are showing the signs of interest. So things are happening again. What is not happening is that I am taking a serious interest in anyone else but the three women. Because I have seen them over time. I have developed the feelings for them. I have invested in them emotionally. Why start again when they are still in my life?
Lots and lots of tours today. One was for someone with one of those titles. He gave me a really good review. A woman thanked me so earnestly for giving me the tour and I talked to some PhD students who also really loved my tour too.
But the highlight of the day was something different. A little girl lost her owl ‘Hedwig’. I found the owl for her and reunited her with her friend. The family was so thankful afterwards, especially as I found her loved one so quickly. Just looking at her face made all the pain go away. In someone’s life, you are a hero and you gave them what they loved.
Achievement of the day? I used my French to talk to a lost child and locate her parents. One of the managers was impressed and asked me how many languages I could speak which impressed them even more.
Inroads into the art history assignment. I am thinking of doing a Biology ‘A’ Level as well since I am in the Gardens now and I am dead serious about everything I do. I will qualify myself so I can contribute. Because I love what I do and I do what I love.
Woman in the male imagination is the awesome and sublime power of nature. Uncontrollable, devastating.
The other name for Durga the Mother Goddess, the one with the tiger, is Shakti or ‘power’. Kali, her other face, is unchecked rage and blood lust. The beserker. Total carnage.
Amongst the gods, there is only one that can control and shape the flood of woman’s power. Over and over again in the myths. It is Shiva, the lord of the beasts (pasupati).
In one myth, Shiva is the only one powerful enough to funnel the flow of the river Ganga (Ganges) from heaven as she falls to earth. Devastatingly she floods down with raw energy. Serenely, he takes her force into his untamed head of hair to bring her down to earth.
In another myth, Kali’s dance of blood lust is only brought to an end when Shiva lays down before her so she dances upon him. It is the cosmic dance – the creation of the universe. Shiva’s control that channels the raw power of woman, the flood of her rage and power.
In both myths, there is one striking aspect of Shiva. That he is completely inert and still, passive. This is his power. Where woman floods with elemental force, Shiva sits down quietly to let the flood enter his hair, or he lays down before it. It is with stillness that the flood of woman’s power is channelled to create life – whether through the water or through the creation of all things. In response to total emotion, like Kali’s, in response to being moved, like in emotion, like the movement of the flood of the Ganga, Shiva is meek and unemotional. Unmoving. Unmoved.
Have you ever argued with the woman you love in the heat of her passion? You cannot fight them. Because you cannot hurt them when they are already hurt. It is wrong. It goes against the responsibilities of being a man. It is dishonourable. So you have to become inert. In response to fury, you reply without emotion. In response to provocation, you are still. In the face of accusation, you are silent. Shiva embodies the only way to act: with absolute restraint and self-control. The one you love is attacking you with everything she has got. She wants to kill you. The only one that can hurt you is hurting you. And you? You have to put your head upon the sword that she offers, and offer her your naked throat. You have to become Shiva. It is the only way forward. Psychologically, even if you are losing the argument, but your opponent is getting more and more heated, by becoming cooler and cooler, you win. That is what it means to be Shiva. Absolute stillness. Stillness in war, as personified by Yudhishthira in the Mahabharata, the leader of the hero brothers (Yudhishthira means ‘still in war’).
You can read more of my poetry and my other books including fiction and prose on my personal blog which features the Open Access MEHMI PRESS:
The Cosmic Dance – Kali dances on Shiva as this is the only way to contain her bloodlust and destruction.
What can I say? I love Kali. So every woman I love becomes Kali. And I become Shiva. It is fate. It is the cosmic dance.
……
Easy. Simple. Unimaginative. There is a preconception amongst some of the non photographers that a portrait is nothing much. Not a real exhibition of skill. Especially the selfie.
Yet the way that you pose and the way that you present yourself to convey your identity is a skill. Whether you want to look appealing or hostile, whatever emotional bond you want to create with the viewer through the craft.
Today, I took it to the basic level. I held the camera at arm’s length in front of me and pushed the button. The magic of technology.
How did I convey my identity?
First off, I posed in front of the bookshelf which is my library. So that indicates that I am a reader.
Then, it was time for the framing. I chose to cut off bits of my face. To add the mystery. It is a technique taken from Japanese art too – I volunteer at a Japanese art gallery. Japanese art itself is influenced by India and Buddhism. So there is that happening there.
Lighting is positioned to catch in the eyes which have been described as my best feature by others, not just women. These eyes are the eyes of my grandfather. It is the family connection. Eyes themselves are described as the ‘windows into the soul’.
The face is filled with light to alleviate the appearance of wrinkles – I am standing next to the window. Light creates a flattering portrait.
In one portrait, I look into the camera. Intimacy. A direct and confrontational challenge. We stare into each other’s eyes. The aggression. The other two images, I look away. The creation of distance. The air of introspection. The books in the background add to that idea of the introvert.
No props. The face fills the frame. There is no distraction. The complete focus is on me. Therefore, the images become intense and illustrate my intensity.
All considered decisions. Yet, the portrait itself is regarded not only as a vulgar, but also narcissistic form. Even though we always present ourselves in our best light to other people. At least in public.
……
Called my friend in the morning who is recovering from the operation for support. She is still suffering. When I call her, she doesn’t want me to go. I said bye about four times. That is what love is.
Contacted my mentor who is recovering from cancer to hope his operation goes well.
Leg is fucked. But the doctor got in touch so I called back because I missed the call as I was talking to my friend. No appointment. But they will call again tomorrow to try and sort one out. How fucked is the leg? Painful. Swollen. But I still ran on it to get to the bus and I caught it. So how fucked is it actually? If you believe in your body and you have mental strength, you are invincible. The Tiger is capable of smiling whatever happens. And helping others despite anything. I have been raised to be a hero and a warrior. There is a saying in India: Men don’t feel pain.
Writing about the Japanese art for the Japanese art gallery in the morning. Then, wrote an article about Indian film songs for the new volunteering space. Then I wrote some new tour excerpts for some other plants for the Gardens. So all the volunteering stuff is done. About four hours invested into art, education and culture and to save the world by inspiring people about plants, climate change and the environment.
Bought some books on history and the V & A and its history at the charity bookshops in the local area. That was one hour gone – that’s why I had to run for the bus.
Bought some lilies for myself and my mother – I walked down. Another forty five minutes. As I walked, I admired the gardens in the local area. It is the time of growth.
I took the photographs, made the artwork. But what would the day be without a poem about Helen? Here it is. For her. Even if she is not reading.
The Olympics is coming. I am the fan of athletics and gymnastics. But now, there is no time to watch. I am the lover of the body. I am the lover of skill. I am the lover of the beautiful people. And the lover is separated from his beauties, the body and the skill. Life mirrors life, hurt mirrors hurt, separation mirrors separation. What does one expect? Less than nothing.
Going back to exploring digital painting styles. In art, without experimentation, there is nothing. Everything is an experiment. Never stick to one style.
People hate my digital art. So what? Fuck you. I do what I want when I want. When I don’t want to do it any more, I stop doing it. Just because someone uses traditional media doesn’t make them a better artist. Just because someone draws like a photograph, it doesn’t make them a better artist. Art is about capturing your ideas and your feelings. It is not surprising that no one can relate to the art of The Tiger. Because who else is The Tiger here? I am alone in this world. I am like the Western god. In a society that believes in individuality, I am the only individual. In a society that believes in personality, I am the personality. In a society that believes in culture, I am the cultured one. In the society of supposed men, I am the lone man.
Massive pains in the leg. In Hindu philosophy, life is suffering. You are condemned to the world. The doctor’s won’t pick up the phone. So I sent an email in the morning. They didn’t reply to it. Even the people that are paid to care for you don’t care for you. Such is life.
Fortunately, I have an incredibly high pain threshold. I even ran for the bus this morning feeling the shooting pains all over my leg. And I caught it too.
I will wait a couple of days for the doctor’s, but I don’t actually expect anything from anyone nowadays. The scene that comes to mind is Collateral when Tom Cruise the villain says that no one will even notice you are dead on the metro in a Western country for a few days.
A young blonde woman on the tube that was standing next to me on the way home leaned over me and kept on touching me the whole way home. She very nearly rested her head on my shoulder. Even the other women sitting down were looking at her to see what she was up to (a young brunette one kept on staring at me and then looking away when I looked at her at the same time – typical behaviour for these young women). If I had done that to a woman, I would have been accused of sexually harassing her.
Everyone on my tours today asked me what my name was so they could write their comments on the feedback forms and praise me. I had nineteen people in total over the quick tours in the hour. Some of them actually requested the feedback forms so that they could give me a compliment. One offered me a tip. Even when The Tiger is in pain, he is still The Tiger. I always perform. It’s what I’m known for. If there is one person you can depend upon in this world, it is me. I commit absolutely.
People think that I am wrong. They always think it. If someone rejects you in love, they are telling you that you are not a man. They have devalued you. They have judged you as inferior to them. And people are telling me that I am wrong for not wanting to remain friends with them? It is me that is right. But do you know something? I know that whoever they go with is worse than me. I am the best. I am what I would want if I was a woman. It doesn’t matter if even the ones that don’t love you don’t think it. The mind, the body, the learning, the heart. The patience, the love. The achievement of understanding. The freedom and the power. The spirit of The Tiger. India is everyone’s daddy. We are the oldest. We are the most knowledgeable. I am India. It is the name I call myself.
Two quotes from Indian movies in my translation, to share with the non-Indians and to spread the culture:
If freedom is a crime
Then the punishment is accepted
Now what will happen
Will be the will of God
(The Thugs of Hindoostan)
By heart we are soldiers
By mind we are the devil
We are India
(‘The older master is excellent, but the little master is outstanding’)
god drowns in the water he puts out his hand the element is endless he fights for escape god drowns in the water light flushing into the depths boils the heart in the water asking for caress god drowns in the water he puts out his hand to feel the smooth palm and to clutch at the fingers to join with the woman that is out of his grasp love drowns in the water he puts out his hand
07.04.2024
Ironically, given the situation, this perfect white rose has grown where I thought this rose bush – which symbolised my love for Helen – was dead.
Sitting at the diary after a birthday meal. This diary is the only place I talk about my personal life and my most private thoughts and feelings. Over time, because I don’t share the links, the readership has dwindled. People come out of our lives. People move on. The people you were once close with, you are no longer close with.
There is one person that reads every night. Is it Helen? You never know in this life. Maybe it is not even her. So all this time writing and reflecting, trying to communicate with her, it might all be useless. Who knows in life what impact our words and thoughts will have on someone.
Helen and I are strangers to each other. She called me a stranger. She wanted me to be a stranger to her. And I am. She did not even recognise my voice. Even people that I have known for a few months have told me that my voice is unmistakable. That is Helen for you. It just confirms the situation in life – she is never where I am. We never talk with each other. The only thing left is my memory of the past. There is no present and no future.
One of the roughest weeks this week. Constant pain everywhere. Motivation is at a record low. Things are happening that I don’t want to be happening. The allure of the new and a change is becoming greater and greater. It is the two year mark in this museums and art gallery occupation. This is the time that is the worst for restlessness.
Looking back and counting the true friendships I have made, the people you can trust and you get on the best with. There are some. But what about the special friendship? Every woman I meet that I get on with is much younger than me. I am not completely stupid. I know that they prefer people their same age or just a little older. I am out of the running even before I begin. Added to the cultural differences.
But where is there to go aside from where I am now? What is there to be done?
What does it feel like to be a stranger with the person in life that you most didn’t want to be a stranger with? You feel the separation. The body moves through space. The space that I am moving in is relentless. Endless. Heavy. Choking. The desire for connection, the hunger for joining mentally and physically. It unfolds in space without satisfaction. Complete frustration. Complete loneliness. Separation from life itself.
Disappointing news today. What was there to expect? Everything is breaking all around me.
People have eaten up my time. The trains are always late or there is always an issue. So the commute time has increased. There are other issues. People just eating my time. Depriving me of my time. When I don’t have time. They have nothing to do. I have everything to do.
Do you know what compensation is? There is no one special in my life (I cannot say Helen, even though I love her. She is not with me). So the only thing to do is work. All of the pent up energy from the massive libido and power and energy of The Tiger is going into work. What else is there? A few meetings with friends. And the rest is just work. Complete sublimation. The desire to be considered valuable in at least one area in life, if you are not going to get it in personal life.
I was talking to a little girl with her father at work. As always, they are the best conversations, even if they last for less than a minute. Because these little children are unfeigned. Honest. They don’t hide anything. You know where you are. You see the world through their innocent eyes. You understand them. They are not boring and disappointing like adults.
The whole day just talking to people. And then you go home and talk to more people. And then, finally, you can sit at your diary and talk to yourself. Finally, you can stop pretending. You can suck at the sourness of the lemon. But what about Helen? She spends all day talking to those other people. Even in her breaks you see her talking with her other people. And then? In the night? She comes and reads this diary when I am talking to her. Why? There is no meaning to it. But it happens. If it is her. Perhaps it is not her. And if I found out it was not her, I would stop writing this diary.
The Pink Roses: Innocent love. Love beginning to deepen into red. The youth of the feeling. The virginity of emotion. Fresh always. No matter how many times you have fallen before.
The White Rosebud: I thought my love for her was dying. I thought I had to kill my love. It comes to life again. Nothing is ever over in life while the air gives you breath. Look how majestically the bud sails up into the moon…
The Daffodils: Spring awakes, the mind shakes/eternally the heart breaks/what nature makes/she unmakes/I smell the daffodils and the scent of the new/I smell the daffodils and begin to heal and laugh anew.
I took this day as a complete rest day. I had applied for my normal shift on a Sunday and I didn’t get it. So I made do with what I had.
In the morning, I met up with my friend in the park. I deliberately told him we would meet up early so I wouldn’t have an excuse to lie in bed and not do anything. We got massively muddy. We see each other basically every week. He is even going to go on the first two days of my holiday with me and drive me down somewhere. He wanted to come with me on the rest of the holiday too, the other four days, but he couldn’t. Whenever I meet up with him, I lose all my stress. Because even though we argue over everything – including Helen and my approach to her and what I write in my blog – he makes me feel relaxed and we can talk forever about things. One day recently we talked together for about thirteen hours non-stop – one of my last holidays. So after that, I was completely stress free, despite everything that has been happening.
My friend’s advice to me about Helen? They all say the same thing. Leave her alone, she doesn’t deserve you. And if you can’t do that, my friend added, make her jealous by talking about other women and then write about the lifestyle that you live – the lifestyle of a king when you can do whatever you want, when you eat the best foods in the world, when you can have whatever you want whenever you want it, etc.
Why talk about other women with Helen like I do here? What’s the logic behind it? There isn’t any logic. The logic is because if she is interested, she has drawn it out all this time despite knowing that I am fairly attractive and that I am going to be talking to other women because they are going to be interested in me. And she hasn’t done anything about it. So she must not really care that much about me. Or maybe she thinks that no one is interested in me. She is wrong. I only talk about the women that I am interested in here. Do you know, that almost every week, some Indian woman likes me or sends me a message on the Indian dating app? Top women with really high status jobs. The only thing is, I am not attracted to them. This week, a very physically attractive Indian woman liked my profile and we matched. Do you know what the problem is with her? She is two years older than me so that would create difficulties with any potential babies. Other women on the dating apps have liked my profile and some of them have messaged me. And they haven’t been right so I haven’t responded. Helen has this thought in her head that I am desperate and I will go out with anyone. Other women in real life have thrown themselves at me. I don’t go on about it because I’m not going to sit around notching up all the attention I get. I mean, five women in one day a couple of weeks ago came up to me on the street to tell me they liked my clothes and one of them asked me to kiss her. Do you think that happens to other men? It doesn’t.
Well, that’s Suneel as seen through the eyes of Helen. Who, despite what she acts like, reads this diary every night. To see what I am thinking. Most probably.
So, what was today’s menu?
BREAKFAST (usually always the same unless I can’t wake up): orange blossom honey, canadian maple syrup, walnuts, hazelnuts, cashew nuts, almonds, brazil nuts, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, dried goji berries, raisins, lemon peel, oat biscuit with yoghurt and strawberry, a banana, dried apricots, dates, strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, yoghurt with chia seeds, flax seeds and lemon and lime marmalade, green tea.
LUNCH: Marks and Spencer’s Pigs in Blankets with Heinz Baked Beans.
TEA: A plain chocolate and vanilla Magnum.
DINNER: Marks and Spencer’s sweet and sour chicken with rice, Mark’s and Spencer’s Thai Panang curry, Marks and Spencer’s White Chocolate, Strawberry and Raspberry Mousse.
While I got everything on reduced for lunch and dinner, we are talking about twenty five pounds worth of food there from lunch onwards. Breakfast probably adds another fiver onto it. So, like I said, I live and eat like a king. I just don’t go on about it, because why boast when other people that are reading are likely struggling? That’s not nice.
On the way home, I bought some lovely daffodils which you can see in the photo – it was the one store that was open.
I spent a lot of time watching videos, but because I am what I am, I spent a few hours writing social media posts for the Japanese art gallery I am at. I also applied for the same thing as a volunteer at another website because I was interested in the subject matter. So I think I wrote quite a good post and sent it off as a specimen of my work.
I had a leisurely shave and a shower for once. Water makes me feel good. It’s why I enjoy swimming so much – or did when I had the time. When we are babies, we swim in our mother’s stomach. That’s why I love the water so much. It soothes me, it makes me feel relaxed and good about myself. It is comfort – a mother’s comfort. Water is woman. It is the same feeling of being loved. Love all over your body.
I watched a reel by Mia Khalifa on Instagram saying that men are easy and she has gotten every man that she has ever wanted because men are ‘cheap and easy’. Whereas she has turned down lots of men. So she isn’t. Maybe that’s how they think of themselves, these young women. It’s a triumph to hurt someone and turn them down because it makes them feel valued about themselves. And us men? We are nothing and not even worth having. It’s weird how gender dynamics work in this society. If I said that women were worthless and not worth having, I would be an incel, a misogynist. But because she is a woman, she can say what she likes and it is shared on public platforms and recommended on my feed.
Do you know what love is? When Matthew Perry (Chandler in Friends) found out that Julia Roberts had said she would only make a guest appearance on the show if he was in the scene, he sent her some red roses. And then they started faxing each other every day. That’s how they fell in love. That’s what love is. Love is commitment and communication.
Do you know what love is? After Napoleon Bonaparte became the man that he was – after he had been a poor immigrant with nothing – he met a woman that had rejected him when he was nothing and nobody. And he asked her why she had rejected him. That’s what love is. You don’t forget. Whatever happens.
But you know those stories? They don’t mean anything in this contemporary context. Do you know what love is now? Love is swiping on a dating app and meeting some stranger. Because the people around you keep you in constant reservation in case someone else better comes along. Because you are Indian.
Do you know what happened to Matthew Perry? He couldn’t believe that he was with Julia Roberts. He couldn’t believe that he could keep her. He was insecure. So he broke up with her in two months. And at the end of his life, he died alone. Even though he was starved of love. That is also what love is. It comes to weak men that can’t handle it.
Do you know what happened to Napoleon? When he became the man of the moment, he cheated on his wife and discarded her. That is also what love is. It comes to weak men that can’t handle it.
Love is not perfect. In love, you have your moments. The good ones and the bad ones. My friend who has had a wife for so long said that to me. Don’t assume that you are going to live in happily ever after even if you do find someone. You have to be able to work at it and commit. You can’t let your insecurities get the better of you.
I look at love and all of the barriers to it: gender differences, cultural differences, the way women have been indoctrinated in this society, what I have been brought up to believe women are like from movies and films and songs, the fear of these people, the inability to talk, rampant racism in society. Without the illusion that there is going to be a happy ending, without the need for a family, why would anyone want to be in love with anyone here?
But with love, there is nothing you can do about it. When you love someone, you just do it. It might be impractical, inconvenient, irrational, even wrong. You can watch how differently they treated everyone else to you and downgraded you. They can be unfair to you. But you still love them anyway.
flew the dragon from the heart fired the dragon from the heart the anger of the blood was in him the madness of the brood was in him flew the dragon fled the pain frolicked the fire and fed the hunger
The whole day went fine. The journey home went fine. Then, just before dinner, I asked a question. And then my whole day was spoilt. When you have really built your hopes up for something, there is an inevitability about it not coming to fruition. When you depend on other people, often in life you are going to be disappointed.
So four days of my holidays are cancelled. I was going to go Italy. How long has it been since I have been abroad? And have I ever gone to a foreign country which it was me that picked? Never. So, I have to decide now. Either I can give up on this holiday. Or I can go somewhere by myself. And, for the first time in my life, I can go to a foreign destination that it is me that wants to go to.
I spent all day talking to my boss who is a traveller and she was recommending Sicily to me and the people I was going to go with. I was really getting into the idea of going.
You know, when you plan something with other people, this is almost always what it turns out like. When I say I am going to do something and I agree with someone, I never back out of it. At any cost. I see it through until the end. Even if it is the bitter end. That’s why I don’t actually really trust other people.
It is sad. Because recently, someone I knew for only a few months invited me on a holiday. And then people you have known for that amount of time are doing this to you. What do you expect out of people, really?
I’ve started getting used to the fact that someone is always going to ruin my day and my plans.
The first time I asked Helen out, we had stopped being together in that context. I missed her. She was the happy point in my life. So I asked her out so I could have her with me. Just me and her and no one else interrupting all the time. It was a solution to a problem of scarcity. But Helen doesn’t have the same problem that I do. There wasn’t a scarcity of happiness in her life. So the time that I was talking to her, I was just another man that was talking to her. And Helen does not lack an abundance of men talking to her. For me, she was special. For her, I was no one. That’s how love in this society operates. The women have the abundance of love. Maybe some men do. Not me. I haven’t had many women in my life or much love from them. What can you do? I am Indian. I was brought up in a white society. That’s what it was and is for us from them.
When a woman is angry at you when there is a suspicion of interest on one side or the other, does it have an evolutionary element to it as a successful strategy? Because when this woman is angry, for seemingly nothing, it makes you pay attention to her. You think about her. You start wondering why she was angry at you. You start doubting yourself. You have to conciliate her. So she gets the power. This is not the first time. It has happened many times with these young women in my life. Ones that I have liked and ones that I haven’t. Over what? Is it just a strategy to gain attention and control? What is so maddening about the way I talk and act? If I was really that bad, why do 99% of people not say anything about it to me?
The young people nowadays are suffering from mental illnesses and depression. It is not a good time to be young. And when you don’t have status and your ambitions aren’t being fulfilled, it stresses you out. Status gives you everything in this world: respect, love, admiration. But look at me. What status do I have? Yet I don’t get stressed out. You know why? Because I know that I am more intelligent than almost everyone else. That is my status. I know things that other people don’t know. I have observed and read. My ambition was to be more intelligent than other people and know more. I keep all my secrets to myself for the time being. Because why would I reveal them when I am not going to get any recognition for them? I’m not going to kill myself to try and cure ignorance and selfishness in this world – because you can’t. The world is ruled by the devil, like the Christians say. Someone might know more about specific things than me. But the things I know about are colossal and determine the ways that people think. Plus, the other thing is that I have achieved all my ambitions. When I wanted to be a teacher, I became a teacher. When I wanted a PhD and become a doctor, I became a doctor with a PhD. When I wanted to get the best results at sixth form and university, I got the best results. When I wanted to work in museums and art galleries and give tours, I got a job and did that. When I wanted to become a published author, I did that. When I wanted to be an athlete at school, I did that too. That’s why I don’t get stressed.
And what about not being able to meet someone I like that likes me back? Do I get stressed about it? No. I have been through a lot of psychological symptoms because of it. Maybe I am secretly stressed in my unconscious. But not in my conscious mind. Because there is a solution. Just like the situation with Helen when I asked her out, there is a very simple solution. Buy the babies from a surrogate mother. Forget about having intimate company with a woman. I just have to harden myself enough to do it.
And the other thing is, I know that I am a good catch. I don’t lack confidence in myself. I am handsome. I am well built and muscular and athletic, with lots of power and stamina. I am well read and cultured and educated. I am good at talking to other people and they find me interesting. I take care of other people. I try to be kind and polite and listen carefully to other people. And I stay clean and wear nice clothes and fragrances. I am good at looking after children and I put other people before myself. I am loyal and I don’t cheat. I work hard at my relationships. So if someone doesn’t like that or can’t see it, I don’t beat myself up about it. They can go with someone that can’t love them as much as I can just because of their money, status, skin colour and height. What else do you really expect from other people?
There is a moment when the shine comes off reality. Some people hide from the ugliness of the nuts, bolts and the naked mechanisms. They deny, flee. But then, what about those that lock their eyes on the terrible truths and try to change the fabric of things in this world? Are they heroes or monsters?
When I finish a piece of art, I am always proud of my handiwork. It is a piece of me. So I was pleased with this one. And when I do the work, because it is digital art, I always post it straight away to share it with the world. I make it for the world as a gift. I work quickly. I think of my art as calligraphy – skills learnt to convey expression in a moment, years of refinement to produce spontaneity. The influence is from Chinese and Japanese calligraphy, the beautiful writing.
I was wondering if Helen really wasn’t well or if I had just read that into the situation. She didn’t look well to me and then there are other memories involved. Me and Helen are almost strangers to each other now. We haven’t talked for a very long time because we are never together any more. She knows about me because I want to believe that she reads this diary every night. What do I know about her? What I know of her is based on her behaviour rather than what she has told me. Her behaviour is distinguished by kindness and care. That is her personality. That is the personality of all the women that I am interested in. It is has become the most important thing.
It has been playing on my mind that Helen doesn’t seem well. Am I contributing to that with this diary? Why does she read it? The fact is that Helen suffers, with or without this diary. And then, when I saw her it was after a day in the weekend. Perhaps that is why. But feeling unwell also goes with stress. But all this could be a misunderstanding. Perhaps Helen is not unwell at all. Sometimes, I see her face and it changes from how I remember it. How do I remember it? The flashing brown eyes when she ambushed me – because usually her eyes are dark and black. They changed colour. The time when she changed her hair and I couldn’t recognise her when I looked into her face. The serious look when she is talking about something which she thinks is important, the intensity of her. The frown that goes down sometimes when you say something. The smile, like the smile of the Mona Lisa.
When people around you are unwell – possibly Helen and then my other friends – you wonder if there was a god, does he get nightmares about the way that he makes people suffer on this planet? How does he live with the guilt of what he causes to happen if he were real? Because it is not just them that suffer. It is the people around them that care about them that suffer as well.
In this low period, time has run out. It seems impossible to get anything done before and after work. Life is rushing along. There are so many unfinished things. Because the motivation for everything is going. There is no excitement or goal to work towards. What is the point of everything? When you are never going to get love out of it? That has always been the motivating force for everything.
Today’s workday was amazing. Even though I can’t control anything in my love life or my personal life – because you can’t control the behaviour and choices of other people – I can control what happens at work. Because when I do things, I am dominant and people follow me, whether or not they give me the formal recognition for it. So today, I gave tours in the art gallery which I wrote, including to one of the curators, my favourite. She loved the tour and gave such good feedback. She told me that I had made her see things in these familiar posters which she had never seen before. I don’t go on about it all the time, but I am very clever. And people recognise that when I talk about things. I went to a meeting to improve experiences for visitors within the museum and I think I made what was quite a good suggestion. I also helped a colleague with a problem that she was having. People often come to me for advice there. Because all the people that are close to me know that I make an effort for them and that I will always help them because they are like my family to me. I did some things for some of the people there that I will not mention here but which made me feel good about myself.
But when I got home, no matter how good the day is at work, I have to return to the situation. My personal situation. Your job can’t love you back. You can get satisfaction from it. But you don’t get the most important feeling: the feeling of being loved. Only a woman can give you that love and your children. That’s what these career women in London don’t understand. If you leave your job, you will be replaced within a week. Life will go on. People won’t even miss you that much after a while. But in a family, you are irreplaceable. You rule over everyone’s hearts. But such is the world that people have chosen a career and money over what is most important: love.
Someone sent me a thank you note for something I sent them. It was nice and unexpected. I like looking back at these notes and thinking about how you might have improved someone’s day just a little with what you did for them.
Lately, I have started thinking I should end this diary. This diary was the expression of love and an invitation for love. But where is the love? But now, it has become a habit. What can I write to Helen now? A love poem? She knows I am thinking about her. Should I complain that she does not love me? What else have I been doing? The speculations about Helen, I keep to myself. The jealousies I keep to myself. The darkest thoughts, I keep to myself. If I told the reader some of the darkest moments and the thoughts, the intensity, they would be shocked.
My hope for the future is that someone doesn’t have to live through what I have had to live just because they have been raised differently and from another culture. But the reality is that things have actually got worse over time and not better. Things will always be like this in this country. Because it is hate that rules and not love. And these women, they are nice people for the most part. But the way that they are and how they treat you is just as bad as everyone else because they can’t accept or love difference. And they don’t even realise that this is what it is. And on top of that, they are repressed. Repression is even worse now than it was in the past. And I feel it is linked to the rejection of difference. I know it. I can feel it. I always follow my intuitions.
diary of a lone man 