LITMIR.BIZ

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began to communicate. A few days later, he confessed his love to me. We corresponded and called back with my flattering acquaintance many times a day.

      Sweet speeches flowed in my address by the river on the phone, and on the video camera, I saw a sly, almost villainous face.

      Sweet flattery and declarations of love alternated with questions about my salary, the amount of my income.

      Once he said that he wanted to marry me because I was hard-working, and he would stay at home and watch TV. He said that he wanted me to come to his home in India first, meet his family, we would get married. And from there we would have jointly applied for a student visa in the United States as spouses. I would get a visa for studies, and he would travel with me as my spouse, on a visa for spouses.

      After that conversation, I decided to stop communicating with him and asked him not to bother me, explaining that I would never voluntarily provide a man with money, and also that I would never allow a man to use me for a visa or other material goods. After that, I stopped responding to his calls and messages.

      My Indian friend called me every single minute. I blocked his number, but he called me from other numbers. It seemed that he had at least a thousand numbers and accounts. A week later, I was tired of fighting him and we began to talk again.

      We talked for six months. First, we talked occasionally, then more often, then every day. It was him who initiated the communication each time. The young man tried not to tell anything about himself, but mostly asked me questions, emotionally and sympathetically commenting on my answers. He seemed to be an absolute angel, who is always with me in any situation on my side. As it turned out, it was part of his psychological play.

      There were months of our virtual communication with him. I kept away from my diplomat and more often refused to meet with him under various pretexts. Compared with the intelligent and predictable diplomat, the Indian acquaintance looked extremely mysterious.

      Tenardieu still ran away from his supervisor when the supervisor called him to work. He would sit in a room with air conditioning, mainly engaged in correspondence with girls. He said that he had long ceased to communicate with girls for my sake alone. Now he confessed his love to me and constantly called me even during my work.

      Still living in Saudi Arabia, he escaped from work, while receiving a stable minimum salary. Then the supervisor got tired of running after him. As a result, it was decided to dismiss Tenardieu.

      Tenardieu was fired in about a month. During this time, he ate and slept every day with a calculator, anticipating a large last salary. He dreamed of buying one luxurious thing or another. But the vindictive supervisor counted the hours actually worked by the sloth and gave a tiny salary.

      The young man was furious. The poor supervisor still does not know how much dirt has fallen on his name.

      I explained to him:

      – What did you want? You had to work.

      My acquaintance, being sure that he was entitled to a large sum for lying in a room during months in a hot country, went with a scandal to the personnel department of his company.

      He shook papers at shocked employees, threatened to go to the embassy and complain about the supervisor.

      In the end, so he flew to India with nothing.

      He returned to his homeland, and other stories began. I still lived in Moscow, went with friends to restaurants and exhibitions, from morning to evening I worked in my organization and in the evenings I visited the pool or met with my diplomat.

      In Moscow, my closest friend was the daughter of the head of the administration of a large industrial city in South Korea. She worked as a diplomat in Moscow. One day when we were sitting in an expensive restaurant in the south-west of Moscow near our Moscow University, Tenardieu called me. At the end of our short conversation, I told him “kiss you, bye”. My friend asked me:

      – Who called you just a while ago?

      I told her that I befriended an Indian guy.

      She was shocked by my words.

      – Are you crazy?

      – Oh dear, I myself do not know what is happening to me. He does not leave me alone. He says he loves me and he is crying on the phone every time when I want to stop it.

      – This is not love, Jana. He is cunning and he deceives you. His tears are fake tears! Don’t you see it? Marry your diplomat and that’s all. He is a good young man and loves you. Give me the phone number of that Indian guy, I’ll tell him something. After that, he won’t dare to call you.

      – Do you think he is a bad guy? When we talk he seems to be very nice and good guy. Dear, not all poor people are bad and mean. Maybe he has a pure soul and brave heart.

      – Jana, a Russian girl told me not to mess with Indian guys, they are all liars.

      – Oh dear, in every nation there are bad people. Don’t judge them so strictly. If you give respect to someone, then you will be respected and loved. Isn’t it?

      – Jana, before you many girls got into troubles with Indians, why don’t you believe me. Many girls who studied with Indians in the Russian medical universities, then married to them in India, but all returned home mentally broken. Some of them died in India and returned home in the coffins. Do you want to be the next one?

      – I cannot believe that all are the same.

      – You have to choose. You stay with us, or with him.

      – How you can say that they are bad? What if you are all wrong, what if Indians are not liars, maybe those Russian girls were bad girls?

      – They were good girls, who trusted those guys. They were in love. They left their country for their boyfriends and husbands from India. And those guys treated them very bad in India. There are zillions of such stories in Russia. I just don’t want you become one of those girls, whose life was broken by an Indian. The Indian cheater wanted to make you fool. Hahaha.

      I did not give his phone number to her, but I promised her to block him and never communicate with him again.

      My attempt to get rid of the welder was unsuccessful. After I blocked him everywhere, he terrorized me from other numbers and cried bitterly. I felt sorry for him. So our online relationship went on.

      Then Tenardieu asked his parents for permission to marry me. Father told him:

      – It’s up to you, of course. Are you sure you want to marry her?

      – Yes. Sure. I can’t live without her.

      After talking with his father, he proposed me, said that he could not live without me, that he loved me to bits. He had plans for a happy future for both of us. He continued to dream that we would live a little bit in India with his parents, and then from there, we go to the West. I would study, and he would stay at home. Every time after his words about the travel to the West, I stopped communicating with him. Then it all began again with promises not to speak on this topic again.

      With each new quarrel, Tenardieu threatened me to commit suicide.

      – I don’t need the life, – the young man told me. Here in India, people are not afraid of death or poverty. We are afraid of only one thing – an insult.

      – Who insults you?

      – I told everyone that I have a bride. I told everyone that you will come to me in India. We will get married. And then we will go to America.

      – First, I repeated to you a million times that we won’t go to any America. Secondly, I did not ask you to tell anyone anything.

      – Then I’ll kill myself.

      One day he convinced me that he was really going to hang

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