THE PEN PALS

A letter dated November 6, 1975, the same day I left Trinidad, was the first one I received after my Trinidad trip. She wrote, “It seems as though you have cast a spell on us, everyone is only talking about you while I am listening almost in tears. I can’t forget you; your face seems to appear in front of me and your voice could still be heard.” She continued, “I told my parents that you would like to marry me, they were delighted to hear this news and wish to know why you did not tell them before your departure. They think you might change your mind after some time. I do trust and believe that you were serious. You are very handsome and intelligent; do you change your mind?” I wish I could find my reply to this letter; most likely I must have assured her that I loved her dearly and that I am very serious about marrying her. I must have informed her that the Ramcharan family should not have any doubt about it. She reminded me of a simple incident and her feelings for me, “Do you remember your friend’s relatives down in Fyzabad, in south Trinidad? When you told them that I am very shy etc. somehow, I felt very close to you but at the same time could not express myself. You should know I wanted to say many things to you but felt embarrassed, don’t know why I am always like that, I hope to change sometime.” I always noticed her shyness, but I too was very shy to have expressed my true feelings for her in presence of Rajesh, Dolly, and other family members. We were never alone together till the very last night before my departure from Trinidad. We had so many things to talk and share; we never got a chance.

The next letter was dated November 11, 1975, was addressed “My dear beloved Arun”. This letter too showered praise on me from her and her parents. I produce here some of her sentences she wrote me: “Although you were here only for a short time, it seems as though I have known you all my life. Every day I talk to my mother about you. I think about you every minute of the day. I love you with all my heart and shall continue doing so until death do us part. I wish you did not have to go to India and were coming here instead. My parents always talk about your good manners and respect; they have never met anyone as you before, also me.” For the first time the letter ended “Your beloved, Manisha”.

In the following letter dated November 19, 1975, she addressed me as “My dear sweet Arun.” I had earlier written a letter to her father expressing my sincerity about marrying his beloved and only daughter. I had assured him that his daughter and I have known each other for over five years. We wanted to marry because we both love each other. Initially we would live in India for at least three years because I had a job contract with ONGC and the Government of India. Your daughter had already consented and expressed happiness over the idea of living in India as my wife. She wrote, “My father sends his apology to you. His only excuse for saying so is that he loves me too much and could not believe that I have to go to India. My parents like you very much Arun and are very sorry to have hurt your feelings. My parents and brothers can’t imagine life without me.” She said, “Do rest your eyes” and strangely the letter ended “Your sweet loving pen-friend, Manisha.” It seems momentarily she forgot that I was her future husband and not a pen friend anymore. Old habits die hard.

The following letter was dated December 1, 1975, was written on a sheet of white paper with a beautiful sketch of Shakuntala and Dushyant and a four-line poem from the immortal Sanskrit poet Kalidas’ classic Shakuntalam. The lines are the English translation of original in Sanskrit; as follows: “Shakuntala wished for some sign of love from Dushyanta to console herself during separation. Feeling her compulsion Dushyanta offers his golden ring to her.” This English translation absolutely fails to capture the beauty and deep emotions in the original poem. I had presented Manisha a gold chain with a beautiful gem pendant as a gift which she proudly wore on special occasions like weddings etc. This letter ends with “I do love you Arun. I love your strength, your will to work hard and most especially your eyes. All my love for you, Manisha”. I had never known that I have beautiful eyes until I went to the U.S.A. Once I met Prof. Cross’s mother at her home in Des Moines, Iowa. I was introduced to her along with few other MSU friends; she caught hold of me by my arms and said, “Young man, you have a very beautiful pair of eyes.” I felt embarrassed and did not know how to respond. Mrs. Cross, my professor’s wife too was there, and said that it was an honest comment by the professor’s mom. Now it was Manisha’s turn to fall in love with my eyes. I guess no one noticed this in India because Indians are widely known to have beautiful eyes, thus my eyes were no big deal.

She wrote me another letter on December 15, 1975, addressed me as “Dearest Arun”. She wanted to know what I did with the pitch sample I had collected in Trinidad, and did I enjoy the calypso music records she had presented to me. She was supposed to go to Barbados with her cousins and friends but was in no mood to go because I was not there with her and wanted my opinion whether she should go or not. She had begun to learn Hindi as well. She said, “I am learning Hindi now, but sometimes I start thinking about you and see your vision. I wonder why? Then I stop learning. Your sweet darling, Manisha.”

Two days after Christmas 1975, she begins her next letter, “My dearest sweet love let us hope 1976 will be the happiest year in our lives.” She said due to my absence from her life in Trinidad she did not enjoy Christmas and was failing to concentrate on Hindi. She explains her absent mindedness as “I don’t know what to do; you seem to have taken my heart; I love you very much.” I must have written to her about the extreme pressure on me to complete my dissertation on time and successfully defend it. Her response was “When I think of you and how hard you have to study, I wish to be beside you, please do not be discouraged. Think of your parents and your sister. How happy they all would be to know you succeeded in exams and also myself. I love you anyhow. Think how long you have been studying and these are your finals. Don’t give up just continue.” My Trinidadian friend at MSU, Alwyn had gone home for Christmas, 1975 and I had sent a sari, few books that included a romantic novel ‘Just for You’, an Indian cookbook, and a book on Hinduism, etc. for her. In return she had sent me a West Indian style suit, Calypso music records and perfumes, etc.

Her letter dated January 5, 1976, had really scared me. She almost ran into a serious accident with another car while driving at the speed of 50 miles/hour. She explains, “I was lost in thought; thinking about you, and feeling as though you were with me, and I were driving about, etc. I have very romantic ideas; you might think I am mad. I love you so much and can’t think of anything but you, no matter where I am, and whom I speak to you are always in my heart. Do you remember when you first came and waved to me at the airport? You shall never know how I felt at that moment; may be as the years go by, I would tell you.” She mentioned that the Indian cricket team was to visit West Indies and she wished victory for the Indian team. She continues, “I hope this Valentine Greeting reaches you in a particularly good mood, because it is my first ever and I love you Arun. I have no life without you, I have been so miserable, life hasn’t seemed worth living without you, I love you forever, and adore and worship you.” She ends this letter, “Yours ever, Love Manisha.” Now it seems I gradually understand the meaning of ‘love is blind’ and that can cause deadly accidents too. Her excessive feeling of love and desire for me was putting her own life in danger. She had become extremely emotionally attached to me. She wrote another letter the same day describing the Christmas gathering at her home attended by her grandmother, uncles, aunts, and cousins. On the back of the letter, she wrote “Blessed are the hands that open this letter.”

The next letter was dated January 12, 1976, in which she acknowledged receiving my letters and a few photographs of mine and my family; also, a new year’s card from my sister Manjula in Lucknow. She had kept all my letters and photographs in a separate album. She says, “Everyday especially when I am alone, I take out all your photos and letters to keep me company.” She also mentions about her phone call to me in my Owen Hall room and how a Chinese woman was listening to our phone conversation (she was calling from a public phone booth). She concludes by saying “I do not care where we live so long as we are together; nothing matters more than you, my love. Yours one and only, love Manisha.” The other side of the letter says, “To my dear heart Arun Kumar.”

The next day on January 13th, she wrote me another letter after receiving mine in which I had mentioned that my dissertation was accepted, and I was expected to defend it in February. She and her family were extremely happy and sent me congratulations. She says, “How can I express my feelings on paper, if you were here, I would hug and kiss you.” She was quite happy to learn about my description of Dehradun, the Indian city located in the valley of Lesser Himalaya, as to where we would be living after our marriage, but she says, “Well I think anywhere in the world is beautiful as long as you are there.” She felt overjoyed to find out, “I did not realize until now that my husband would be an earth scientist, and just because of this I am going to take part in a Ramayan prayer.” She went on to say “I am crazy about you Arun; you are my life; do you know that? You bring me love and sweet peace.” At this moment it is obvious from her letters that she had begun to idolize me. By now she knew me very well, she loved my looks, amenable and congenial personality, excellent educational background, and a bright future ahead; and above all, her absolute faith in me as her would be husband who would do everything thing possible to make her life happy and fulfilling.

Her letter dated January 25, 1976, discussed some serious issues about our marriage plans. I wanted to get married in April. Her parents thought it would be too early although she thought we should get married next month in February. What kind of visa she should get to live in India with me? Her parents wanted the marriage should be performed in Trinidad; I should come to Trinidad to get married and take my wife with me to India. My parents wanted that Manisha and her family should come to India and perform the marriage in Lucknow again in case I must get married in Trinidad first.

Her next letter dated January 30, 1976, was all positive, romantic, and happy as always. I had sent her some of my new photos which made her immensely happy. She says, “How handsome you look; whenever I open your letter and see your photo my heart would beat very fast, and I would feel very happy as though you are here with me. I wish you were a genie so that you could fit in your letters to me.” It seems that the consensus was building that I go to Trinidad get married and return to India with my wife. My parents would perform another wedding ceremony for us in Lucknow. Well, it seems she learned enough Hindi to write me a romantic and correct sentence, “Main tumhe dilojaan se pyar karti hoon.” This translates in English as ‘I love you with all my heart and soul’. This gave me a wide smile and I was certainly impressed to say the least. The letter ends with “Arun, I love you, I love you, I love you, my love.” I can only imagine how desperate she was getting for me. At the same time, I was to face the biggest examination of my life. I was given a date in the second week of February to defend my Ph.D. dissertation. All American Ph.D.s have to go through this dreadful experience. As a matter of fact, Manisha’s letters used to bring down all the Ph.D. related stresses on me at least for the time being. She played an incredibly positive role in the completion of my Ph.D. degree at MSU. Her constant encouragement and emotional support during those tough years was extremely valuable for keeping my own sanity intact. I had serious plans to reward her after she became my wife Mrs. Manisha Kumar (as she signed her letter dated February 28, 1976) by taking her all over India. The way my life and career evolved I would have taken her around the world as well. In her next letter dated February 16, she mentioned that she was taking a two-month long course in Indian cooking by an award-winning cook, Mrs. Sarla Chaman Lal, and said, “Every day my parents talk about you.”

In the same letter she wrote, “Valentine’s Day is celebrated here also not only by those who are in love, but also for those who are very dear to you. This song by Steve Lawrence, the words are very nice and meaningful, I like them.” She loved romantic songs of Steve Lawrence, a well-known American singer. The complete song ‘Now that we're in love….’ suggested by Manisha is presented below.

“Now that we're in love; the world is a lovelier place; now that we're in love; it has a smile on its face.

Every night is New Year's Eve; each day is Valentine’s Day; I know this you won't believe; you sigh and violins play.

Now that you're the one; who else could matter to me? now that you're the one; whoever else could there be?

All you do is touch my hand; suddenly it's wonderland; Shangri-La, Eden; Yes! Heaven and paradise too; now that we're in love; you with me; and I with you.

Now that we're in love; the world is a lovelier place; now that we're in love; All you do is touch my hand; and suddenly it's wonderland; Shangri-La, Eden; Yes! Heaven and paradise too.

Now that we're in love; I can't believe it's true; you with me; and I with you.”

I had successfully defended my thesis and was entitled to be called Dr. Arun Kumar. That is how she addressed me in her next letter dated February 28. After defending my thesis, I had left for India. I was already several weeks late to join my job in ONGC. She writes “My dearest love Dr. Arun Kumar;” she sent me her warmest congratulations on behalf of the Ramcharan family. I had mentioned to her that I had no money to come to Trinidad to marry her by April and we will have to wait for a while before I am ready to come. She expressed her total understanding and politely offered to help me, but she knew that I would never accept any money either from her or her family. I contemplated borrowing from friends in Dehradun to go to Trinidad, because I wanted my Manisha to be with me as early as possible, but she did not support this idea. She said that she was ready to wait for a few more months but borrowing money at the very beginning of our lives was a bad idea. I totally agreed with her. She described her trip to Barbados, “If bathing in the sea is your hobby, then you would love Barbados. I have never seen such beautiful beaches as theirs, just imagine the sand is white and the water is light blue. I bathed there three days but was a bit scared after seeing ‘Jaws’. We bathed at crystal and silver sand beaches, the people there are mostly kalloos (Hindi for blacks) and were very friendly. I have taken few photos if they come out well you sure would have some; also, I bought you a souvenir.” She had taken my advice seriously and did not drive a rented car in Barbados. I was always worried about her driving habits of dreaming about me beside her while driving. Once again, I was far away from her in India; she wrote, “Our letters would take long to reach each other, sometimes a month from India. This would make me feel extremely far from you, although you are in my heart. Whenever I receive letters from you it makes me so happy that I want to rejoice and sing.” I too had similar feelings whenever I received letters from her. She signed off as, “Yours lovingly, Manisha Kumar (I dream of you often and I LOVE YOU Dr. Arun Kumar).”

I am sure I must have expressed my warm feelings for her in my reply to which she acknowledged in her letter dated March 28, 1976. But by the time that letter arrived it was too late, and I was hit by one-million-watt thunderbolt before it. Rajesh sent me a telegram on April 3, 1976, that read “MANISHA RAMCHARAN DIED ON 2/4/76 AT 5.00 A.M.” Initially I thought it was a cruel April Fool’s joke and just refused to believe this telegram. However, I then looked carefully at the telegram and understood that this was indeed a cruel joke not by a human being though but by God himself. I was absolutely devastated, my heartbeat was so high it could have failed, my brain stopped functioning, my dreams were shattered, life’s future plans were dumped and above all, the spirit of Manisha surrounded me, and she would never let me do anything. I could not do any work, eat, or sleep and became terribly confused and directionless for a while. Fortunately, I had informed my parents in Lucknow, and they rushed to Dehradun to be with me. They took me home to Lucknow for a few weeks. My bosses in ONGC showed me compassion and let me go home. For a while I refused to believe in God; how he could take away from me my most precious Manisha? She was a devout Hindu and spent a considerable amount of time in prayers, poojas, attending Ramayan reading sessions and Sri Satya Sai Baba’s bhajan and kirtan sessions. It took me almost six months to recover from this severe shock. In the meantime, letters from Rajesh and her uncle tried to explain how she had died and how nothing they could do against the will of the almighty God. But the more I read such letters the more restless I became because there were several unanswered questions in my mind. By the way I still have no answers to some of them and probably would never have them at least in this life. I was and still am angry with Manisha. Honey, you knew you had a problem of shortness of breath (panting) while bathing at sea, yet you decided to hide it from your father! I really wonder why? It was not very smart of you to behave the way you did. I think you had some kind of heart ailment which needed investigation and treatment. Instead, you and your friends spent a week in Barbados swimming in the sea. I seriously think that might have aggravated your ailment. Her memories are vivid in my mind and quite often I lament her early departure from my life, especially whenever I am alone and under any kind of stress.

The last letter

Just five days before her death Manisha wrote me her last letter dated March 28, 1976, which contained several photographs of Barbados. She wrote “My dearest love Dr. Arun. I hope you are resting your beautiful eyes and not working too much; please give them plenty of rest. I am saving money for your return ticket to India. I do not like the idea of borrowing from anyone; it would not be a good beginning. I should have enough money to buy your ticket by the month of July, and this should be known between both of us and my mother of course.” She also talked about her cooking classes and cricket. She ended the letter “I missed you very much in Barbados, just can’t explain. I love you more and more everyday dear Doc. Your sweetheart, Manisha”.

No one could have imagined in their wildest dreams that she would die so suddenly. Imagine the state of my mind when I received this letter knowing that she is already dead. I along with my family in Lucknow was in absolute shock for a long time. Psychologically I can never recover from this jolt.

Manisha was my love and would have been my life but for the cruel intervention of destiny. I being a scientist questioning and finding rational and logical answers are part of my education and training and now it is deeply ingrained in my personality. Manisha’s sudden departure from my life leaves me with several unanswered questions and I may never get their answers. I sincerely wish that I were with her to share her suffering or maybe I would have done something differently to save her life. I feel distraught, confused, and angry and nothing offers me any solace. Whenever I imagine Manisha’s last few hours of her life my heart pulsates at a higher rate; it aches in anguish and helplessness; and tears ooze and roll down my face. Finally, I feel tired and look at her smiling, youthful and beautiful face in her photograph before me on my study table and calm down. She seems to tell me that I must carry on with my life and responsibilities; if I want her to be at peace, I must obey her. Well, that is exactly what I have done since she left me. Dear Manisha wherever you are now, please keep giving me generously your love and support as you did during my student days at MSU. I need your support even after your death and I need it even more as I age and move into the final phase of my own life without you.

It bothered me all the time that how a person who enjoyed such good health died so suddenly due to acute chest pain. I had seen a large number of photographs since her younger school days but never saw any indication of illness or bad health. Apparently, she had a cardiovascular problem which went undetected during her short life.

Now I will never get to know about her dreams, secrets, and romantic events which she had promised to share with me in so any of her letters.