—42—
London
[In Urdu]
Dear Elsie,
I cannot even think of a good thing, one tiny beauty, one single moment of joy because I will not see you again before my father whisks us back to India. He fears war will break out and prevent our return, so he insists we leave immediately. I have pleaded, but he will not listen.
Write to me, soon. I fear you will misunderstand my sudden silence. I am wretched and shall miss you every moment of every day. You are my dearest, dearest love. I do not know how I shall survive without you at my side.
With all my love,
Tanveer
August 7, 1914
London
[In Urdu]
My dearest love,
War has been officially declared, so it appears your father was correct.
I returned to London the day after your ship sailed, and wept for a day at missing the opportunity to wish you farewell. How could we not even have been afforded that single thing, a chance to say goodbye?
I am wretched, rooh ke saathi.
My brother is threatening to marry me off to a man I don’t even know. The only glimmer of hope I see is in the truth that all the young heirs will march off to war to do their duty. I wish no ill on any of them, but perhaps it buys both of us a little time.
We have made no promises, Tanveer. We have not even discussed what a future together might be—and perhaps it is impossible, but I find I cannot entirely give up on the possibility that we might find a way. Am I a fool to dream such?
Peter, Grayson, and Jonathan have already enlisted. Although I have no spiritual practice, I do wish for a way to pray for this all to be over soon, and everything safely righting itself.
Yours, always, forever
Elsie
September 12, 1914
Talwarpur Palace
[In Urdu]
Dear Elsie,
It grieves me deeply to say this, but we cannot marry. I have known this always, but you persist in wishing a different future for us.
Please understand that I would be the happiest man in India if I could make you my bride.
Truly. You are birdsong and morning, the comfort of sleep, the challenge of noon.
Our minds are as well suited as our bodies and hearts, and I cannot imagine a world where I could ever grow tired of your company.
Would that we could grow old sparring over ideas until late in the night, then share breakfast in good humor!
This vision makes me weep with longing. For me, it would be the best of all possible things.
But it would be a terrible future for you.
You are fortunate to enjoy the very edge of modernity in your life in England.
You have the freedom to explore your art and your own mind.
You have freedom of movement and even the ability to defy the powers that would shape you.
You are part of the new world for women, Elsie, and you must step into that leadership by becoming fully yourself.
It would be impossible for you to do that in India, with me.
No matter how happy we would begin, you would resent me over time.
We would end up as old bitter people, despising one another, and that is a future I truly cannot bear.
If we make peace with what the truth is, this truth, that we love each other deeply and perhaps irrevocably, then we can still be friends. We would be free to remain friends, always. Always.
Never doubt that I love you. I feel you moving in the world even when I am thousands of miles away from you. I dream your dreams.
We promised we would put each other’s happiness first. I am keeping my vow.
With sorrow and hope,
Tanveer