‘You write stories, Shantaram,’ she smiled. ‘One day you will write about me, and that will be a declaration of love. And this woman who has your heart will propose to me, out of happy love, nothing more.’ ‘Isn’t every love happy love?’ ‘No,’ she laughed. ‘There is your kind of love. You, and the few like you, who have become my dearest friends.’ ‘I don’t want unhappiness in love,’ I said, frowning. ‘I don’t want unhappiness at all.’ ‘I’m talking about the real thing,’ she replied. ‘The real thing is always more painful and more rewarding than anything less.’ ‘That’s . . . very confusing,’ I
...more
