I bore my sorrow and loneliness for a few days and, when I could stand it no longer, I wrote another letter to Mom Ratchawong Kirati, while she was still at sea.
14
A little over a month after Mom Ratchawong Kirati had left, I received a letter from her. My mind had been in turmoil for many days before it arrived. Every afternoon when I returned home from university, I would look in the mailbox, and when I did not find what I had been waiting for so anxiously, I would ask other members of the family if there was anything for me. I did this for so many days that it caused considerable surprise in the house, until the day finally came when I received a letter from her.
I was feeling miserable that, as usual, there was no news from Mom Ratchawong Kirati. As I sat in front of the door, taking off my shoes and feeling thoroughly downhearted, Nobuko, the daughter of the owner of the house, ran up to me and handed me an envelope. I examined the handwriting on the front, and having ascertained whose hand it was, kicked off my shoes in such a distracted manner and in such a hurry that I startled Nobuko. All I wanted to do was rush to my room, close the door, lie down and relish the contents of the letter in private. I thanked Nobuko briefly and went to my room, my face beaming, of course. Mom Ratchawong Kirati’s letter read as follows:
My dear Nopporn,
I’ve been home for five days now and have received your two letters. Although you wrote on different days, they both arrivedtogether. In fact, I should have written to you without waiting to see if there was a letter from you, because I needed to write to you straightaway to thank you for your most valuable assistance and the kindness you showed me throughout my stay in Tokyo. The one thing I won’t thank you for is for taking too much interest in me.
I didn’t expect to get a letter from you so quickly. I suppose you’ll be angry with me for not writing sooner. Or is it that you were too hasty in writing to me? If I walk, but you fly, you can’t really compare, can you? I hope you won’t be angry with me. However, I’ve done a good deed in return, and that is, I’m writing this letter the day after receiving yours. I’m sure you’re not so impatient as to say I ought to have answered on the very same day. Should you get a bit impatient, please don’t forget the fact that at home, in Bangkok, I’m not free like you. There are lots of different things I have to do, which you may not have realized.
The ardour that you expressed in your last letter suggests, I think, that the meaning of the end of autumn has not yet touched your heart. It was as if you had sneaked into Bangkok to write that letter. If you still haven’t cooled down, I’m going to have to advise you to stay in an icebox when you write to me next time. Or else you could wait until winter and write from somewhere where it’s snowing. I don’t mean to sound as if I am treating your letters as something amusing. I feel for you so much, so very much. But I know this madness will make you unhappy. I want you to be happy, no matter what.
On the journey home, I didn’t feel particularly excited. I didn’t eagerly count off the hours and days, as many do when they’ve been away from their homeland. Perhaps it was because I’d only been away a few months. Another thing was, there was no one in Bangkok whom I thought of every hour of every day. I missed my father and sisters, but not that much – just in an ordinary way. But in leaving you, I have to admit that my mindwas hardly at peace. I knew my departure would leave you alone and upset for many days. The feelings you described in your letters were scarcely more than I feared. All I hope is that you can keep them under control. Your intense feelings for me will, in due course, gradually disappear, and eventually I will cease to occupy a significant place in your life. Then happiness and innocence will return once more to your heart, without the fetters of your youth. I’m waiting and praying for that day.
Do you realize that the way you described your feelings in those two letters has turned you into a man I need to be wary of? You’re no longer my sweet young friend, Nopporn. Your boyish charm has almost completely disappeared, and you seem to have become quite a terrifying young man. From your letters, I scarcely recognize the Nopporn I first met. You must, my dear young friend, I beg you, try to come to your senses. You must keep your feelings firmly under control. You have the strength to do so if you don’t give up. It would be so tragic for you to be infatuated with an unfortunate woman, long since cast aside by fate, and even now, in no position to fulfil anyone’s dreams. Even though people would forgive you for your infatuation with that woman, you must accept that, in reality, this is an empty obsession of yours. What point is there in being obsessed with me, when your desire has no chance of being fulfilled? Is it the ocean that keeps me from you? Surely you know that it’s because I have Chao Khun that we are parted and live in separate worlds. There’s no way we can come together, you know full well, don’t you?
Nopporn, why do you still dream of me? I can’t help you. There’s no one in this world who can help you. Life runs its course, that’s true, but the gods have already mapped it out in advance. I neither forbid you nor ask you to think of me. But I do ask that you think of me calmly, as if I were a close friend or your older sister. And I ask you not to think of me with fiercely passionate thoughts, nor a desire to seize my body and soul asyour treasures. You already know that you’re wishing for something impossible.
Please go back to where you were, my dear young friend, to your books and dreams of a married life of honour and prosperity. You have a brighter, more wonderful future than that woman who merely crossed the path of your life for a brief while. Please let me hope that my warning might have some effect.
I ask you to work hard at your studies. That is your only goal now. I, for one, shall always be interested in your success. My joy in wishing you a future full of great honour and prosperity will be second to none, if I live that long. I wait eagerly for the day when I shall have news that your feelings have returned to normal. I hope that such a time will come very soon, and from that day on, I shall be happy and content.
Although this letter is filled only with requests, I’m certainly not going to forget to tell you that I accept your worthy feelings with pleasure and deep gratitude. I shall remember them for ever. There’s no need for you to say it again. Think of me, my dear, think of me just a little, from time to time.
I’ve already written at great length, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t write about anyone else in this letter. But let me chide you a little, for not writing to Chao Khun. Do you realize how careless it was to be only interested in writing to me? I nearly had a fright when Chao Khun asked me what you had said in your letter. If you’d been there at the time, I’m sure you’d have panicked. Luckily, he’s not the jealous type, and I’m not easily alarmed. Can I finish now, my dear? Chao Khun is getting ready for bed, and I don’t want him to go asking questions unnecessarily. Goodbye, my young friend. I think of you constantly. I always shall.
With concern for your happiness,
Kirati
This first letter from Mom Ratchawong Kirati eased my agitated mind considerably. Her words cheered me up as much as if I had met her and heard them from her own lips. At first, I saw no point in her advice. I took no notice, regarding it as mere platitudes of consolation. She could not really have meant that I should cease to think of her so passionately. But later, after I had read her letter and reflected upon it, I was inclined to think that there was something in her advice. Perhaps Mom Ratchawong Kirati really did mean it.
15
After that, Mom Ratchawong Kirati and I continued to write to each other. As time passed by, the pain of missing her, for several reasons, gradually diminished. In the first place, however much I loved her and however much I missed her, there was nothing I could do about it. Soon the tenseness I had felt began to ease, and when the time came for me to devote myself to my studies, the need to use all my powers of concentration was another factor which brought my mind back from the realm of passionate love to its former state.
Having suppressed my feelings once, it seemed as if I could do so perpetually. Following the first two letters, which were full of an outpouring of love and passion for her, I continued in the next few letters to describe my longing for her. But when I considered Mom Ratchawong Kirati’s advice and the utter emotional exhaustion I had experienced when she first left, my passion eased of its own accord. Thus, in subsequent letters, I made no mention of longing for her, as I had at the beginning, and the intervals between writing grew longer, until the time came when my mind had found its former equilibrium. Writing to her became almost completely painless, as if I were simply writing to a close friend. And that was the way Mom Ratchawong Kirati wished it, as I understood at the time.
I had told her of my love and begged her in several letters to answer me in just one word. But no matter how pleasing herreplies were, she never, ever mentioned love. I became convinced that Mom Ratchawong Kirati really did want to forget what there had been between the two of us, or at least the incident on Mount Mitake, where I had given vent to my feelings for her and pressed my lips up against hers. That kiss still simmered in my heart. I had not forgotten it. Yet the memory was beginning to fade for the various reasons I have already mentioned.
After two years, communication between Mom Ratchawong Kirati and myself had become so infrequent that scarcely a trace of the past remained in my heart. My letters, which I had written to her every month without fail, became less frequent, and it seems that in that second year, I wrote to her only three times. In fact, I was increasingly burdened with my studies, and as I had recovered my mental equilibrium, I immersed myself in my books and plans for my future career. Looking back at the way I felt then, I am still surprised and at a loss to explain why Mom Ratchawong Kirati so quickly ceased to be important to me. I had been so besotted with her and had regarded her as the most important person in my life. She had been a woman I could not separate from my own life, because if she had been, my life would no longer have been complete. After the passage of two years, all I knew was that she was just one of many close friends I had in Bangkok.
About six months later, I received news from Mom Ratchawong Kirati that Chao Khun had passed away as a result of kidney disease. I shared her sorrow at the news and quickly wrote back offering my condolences. After that, life went on as usual. Chao Khun’s death did not for one moment prompt me to consider that I might become involved with Mom Ratchawong Kirati in a way that might impact both of our lives. It should have made me think of the former relationship between us. It should have done, yes, but I do not know what devil it wasthat blocked it from my mind. It is most surprising that, having learned the news of Chao Khun’s death, I allowed things to carry on as usual. I had no inkling that an event of little significance to me was of the utmost importance to someone else. Such is life.
After a further two years I successfully completed my studies. As my graduation approached, I communicated more with my family in Bangkok. My brothers and sisters had heard I was doing well and that I would graduate soon and return home. They all wrote to express their delight, as did the girl to whom I was engaged. My father must surely have suggested she write as a means of tying me down and warning me that there was already a girl waiting to marry me in Bangkok, and that I should not get involved with any other woman in Japan. Truly, no one need have worried about me on that score. At the time, I was more preoccupied with advancing my own career than anything else. I was not going to waste my time on women. I had hardly given a thought even to my own fiancée. I had no time for such things. I was older now, it was true; but this had not focused my thoughts on choosing a spouse. It seemed as though the older I got, the more I kept away from the female sex. Indeed, now that I was mature, I avoided all such situations and concentrated entirely on my work.
The letter from my fiancée unsettled my peace of mind and turned my thoughts to marriage. But it was not something I considered with any great excitement. I did not know whether I would love her, because we did not know each other well enough to be able to be fully committed to love. But then what was marriage? I was not very clear about it at the time. I thought vaguely that she must be a suitable enough partner. Otherwise, why would my father have chosen her, for he was no fool? At an appropriate time after my return to Bangkok, he would probablyarrange our marriage, and I would raise no objections. Even though the marriage would not be built upon a basis of mutual love, I would gradually become close to her, and before long would feel fondness and love for her. She would look after the home, and I would go out to work and struggle against all the obstacles to advancement in my career. There was not much more to marriage than this. That was the rather vague idea I had at the time. I did not think about it very seriously. I wrote a friendly letter back to her.
When I finished my studies, instead of returning home immediately, I began training at a bank. During that time, I wrote to Mom Ratchawong Kirati, telling her how I was getting on. I did not write at any length. The truth was, latterly, I was no longer very good at writing her long letters. Once I had said what I wanted to, I could hardly think of anything else to write. How strangely time changes our feelings.
So that you will know how Mom Ratchawong Kirati felt about me, more than four years after we had parted, I would like to show you one of her letters from that time. ‘My dear Nopporn’ – that was how she always, without fail, began her letters. This is what she wrote:
I’ve received your letter telling me of your success. How can I tell you how thoroughly delighted I am? Had you an elder sister, her pleasure at your success would scarcely compare with that which I feel. You know just how eager I’ve been for you to succeed throughout the many long years when we’ve not seen each other. So if I boast of my happiness a little too much, even though I’m not exaggerating, you surely won’t be cross with me.
I’m even more delighted to learn that you’re going to stay over there and work for a year before returning to Thailand. In fact, that was your original plan, I was told when I was in Tokyo, so it just shows how firm you are in your resolve. I expectyou show the same resolve in everything, not just your studies. Even though the things men such as you achieve are beyond the capabilities of most people, they are well within your grasp. My praise is meant quite sincerely.
