September 1969

September 3, 1969 (24)

Montreal

My beloved and wonderful wife, Angel,

It is with tears of joy that I write these lines, having received your letter just a few minutes ago after nearly five long weeks of waiting. The envelope was dated August 29th.

I sincerely hope you have received all my letters, which I mailed to your brother in Reddipalem, and that your brother-in-law received the aerogram I sent last week. I also hope Anasuya received my message from two weeks ago asking her to inquire about your extended silence.

Now you should be out of the convent, and I am so glad for you, darling. A huge burden has been lifted from your shoulders. I wonder how the Sisters at your convent, especially Selegrina, responded to your departure. What about your family? Where will you live now, and what will you do next? Is there anything you need?

Beloved, it is now my turn to strive for complete freedom. I hope the process will go quickly, although I fear we may have to wait for some time. Obtaining laicization is a more complicated matter, entangled in red tape from Rome. Please, darling, do not despair if you do not receive my letters promptly; it is only because the mail is slow, not because I have stopped writing. I remain faithful, writing to you every Friday.

I started my job two days ago, and everything is going well. As is often the case at the start of the school year, the college is somewhat chaotic. I will begin teaching next week, with three periods each week. Although this is a modest teaching load, it is in addition to my responsibilities for pastoral care, which still need to be fully developed. As usual, I will write a longer letter on Friday. For now, this message is a direct response to your call. I will check at the post office to see if registering this letter will help it reach you faster.

Darling wife, Na jeevam, I am so happy that your Mother General agreed to send you to the bishop. I will thank God for this blessing and let us together give thanks with all our hearts. Now that you have more freedom, I hope to read longer and more frequent letters from you. My longing for you grows with each day. Please, Angel Chérie, if you can, write to me about everything from the beginning—share your inner thoughts, your hopes for our future, and your ideas on how we can be together. Let me know what you believe is the best way for us to move forward.

I am still living at home with my family and will remain here as long as possible to save money. As I mentioned before, I bought a small black secondhand car, which is very handy for traveling to work each day—about a 35-minute drive from home.

VW Beetle

Angel, my beautiful, kind, and faithful wife, God is good, and I love you deeply. I kiss you with all the passion in my heart. Each minute brings us closer together, and that is a wonderful thought. Let us remain courageous and patient, knowing that our love is deep, strong, and eternal. You are mine, as I am yours, forever.

With all my love,

Your Husband, crazy for you,

André

PremAA

P.S. Please tell me what you think is the best way forward. Take good care of yourself and give my best regards to your parents.

September 5, 1969 (25)

St. Jérôme

My pretty and wonderful wife, my beloved Angel,

It is Friday, and as promised, here I am writing to you. This is two days after I sent the aerogram to your cousin, BM Reddy’s address. I hope that you have received it by now. As you will see, I did not register the letter. When I went to the post office to inquire about special delivery or registered mail, I was told that for India, it does not make a difference. Both take the same amount of time as regular airmail. The only distinction is that a registered letter is handed directly to the recipient. So, I decided to send it as usual, hoping it will reach you in Warangal even faster, since that city is larger than Reddipalem. For a moment, I considered sending you a telegram, but it would have cost too much—about $100 US. I am sure you would have preferred to save that money for our future. Moreover, telegrams sometimes take two to three days to arrive, especially when sent to distant places in Asia, so a letter might take only a couple days longer. Angel, please do not worry about me. I will always remain faithful to my Friday rendezvous and never miss it. Only my death could prevent me from mailing you a letter each week. For any other reason, even if I am very sick, I will find a way to give you news, to tell you how much I love and long for you.

Love, I am not sure how many letters you have sent me so far. But except for your letter from Warangal at your cousin’s house, there have been five long, painful weeks without news from you. Did you write, darling? If you did, and if you sent the letters from Reddipalem, then something is amiss—perhaps with your Mother General, with the mail, or something else. Similarly, if you did not receive all my letters, something is wrong. I number my letters in the right corner of the first page, and as you see, this is my 25th letter to you. My 24th was the aerogram. So, darling, if you do not receive my letters, do not worry or assume that I have not written or that I am ill. The silence is due to factors beyond your control. On my side, everything is fine. On your side, however, now that they can stop you from writing, I know you may not have been able to write freely. For all the letters I have received, I kiss you with all my tenderness, knowing how much effort and risk those quickly written words cost you. Darling Bala, thank you so much—I am truly grateful. It is a great proof of your love for me. Yes, our mutual love is strong, deep, and unique. I cannot ignore how much we love each other. Now that you have more freedom - did you receive it from the bishop? That was my impression from your last letter from Warangal -, I hope it will be easier for you to write to me. Please, darling, write to me. I long to hear everything from you. When you were still in your Congregation, I never pushed you, knowing how hard it was. But now, please give me news. Start from our separation in Manila and tell me about everything you have done, thought, and suffered. Tell me about our future, your plans, your relationship with your parents and other family members, and the sisters’ reactions when they learned you were leaving. Tell me everything, as I always tell you everything.

It is Friday, 2h00 PM, and I am at my office in College Lionel-Groux. This week has been relatively quiet since it marks the start of the school year. Adjusting to this new environment is a learning process for me; I am discovering just how much living in a community has shielded us from the everyday realities and challenges faced by others. Now, I realize the importance of listening more than speaking, and I believe this will help me grow. Gradually, I am beginning to make connections and friendships among both teachers and students. My hope is that, over time, I can form a team dedicated to fostering better life within the school, which serves approximately 750 students.

Next week, I will start teaching my Human Relations course on Wednesday and Thursday. Initially, I anticipated having 24 students, but after registration yesterday, I learned there will be 35 students enrolled. Although the class will be somewhat crowded, I am confident that it will be manageable. Please pray that I may be able to provide a quality course—I am committed to preparing myself as thoroughly as possible.

Everything at home is going well. My parents have been very supportive and kind, though there is a small concern. Last night, my mother became ill, and we called the doctor. She is a strong woman, and you will meet her one day, but she tends to neglect her health and is quite overweight, which puts strain on her heart. I have often encouraged her to have a hospital checkup, but she has always been reluctant; she dislikes pills and hospitals, much like you. Thankfully, last night she promised both me and the doctor that she would go for a checkup next Monday. This is a positive step. My father also needs to pay attention to his health. As I mentioned before, he became paralyzed from the waist down to his knees at just 29 years old and now struggles to walk. Despite this, he continues to work hard at our grocery store, often standing for long periods even though his legs are in poor condition. He should rest, but he refuses, even though my brother Robert, now the store manager, could easily handle the responsibilities. That is the situation with my family.

Last weekend, Odette visited Montreal with her Husband and their five-month-old daughter, Julie. Odette and I talked about you, and she asked whether we wrote to each other often. I explained that I have not received news from you for about four weeks, which worries me. Odette suggested that we should marry as soon as possible and asked if it was difficult to be separated from you. It was a relief to speak openly about you to someone who truly understands. Other than my mother and Odette, I have rarely spoken about you with anyone.

Regarding my laicization, there is still no news. I am waiting to hear from the Provincial, and tomorrow I plan to call him to inquire about the documents I need to sign to leave the Society of Jesus. These should be ready by now. I will also ask about the process for laicization. Previously, I was told that I would need to sign documents for my exit from the Society and then go to the diocesan chancellery; however, since I have already signed a paper for Rome requesting both my exit and laicization, further steps may not be necessary. I am hopeful that I will be laicized soon.

Sometimes, I consider that even if laicization is not finalized immediately, we should proceed with marriage. Of course, this would present challenges—we wish to marry in the Catholic Church, which is important to us both for our faith and to avoid any scandal. I do not want to be the cause of scandal. Regarding our faith, if there is no public scandal, I would marry you even before laicization, as it would not conflict with my beliefs; but the institutional Church’s perspective complicates matters. Angel, my desire to be with you for life is overwhelming.

As you know, I wrote to your brother-in-law, who requested an affidavit of support for a visitor’s visa. In my letter, I mentioned the possibility of a permanent visa and explained that we both need to wait. I did not raise the issue of laicization, which is the main obstacle, but I assured him that once you leave your Congregation, we can make decisions together. I understand his concern regarding your passport’s expiration and the difficulty of obtaining a new one, but before you travel here, I must be certain of your security and ensure I have sufficient funds. It will likely be March before I have a bank account adequate to guarantee I can support you. Laicization remains a challenge, as I wish for us to marry as soon as you arrive. These are my thoughts, and I am eager to hear your perspective—please respond in your next letter.

Angel, it may be helpful for you to reconnect with friends you made in the USA, especially once you have officially left your congregation. The more contacts you have here, the better it will be for you. I often speak about you coming here, but in my heart, I long to go to India and marry you there. I am always attentive to opportunities for work in India and continue to hold hope about SUCO. Like a good Indian, I am somewhat fatalistic about where we will be reunited: if God wills it and if it is best for us, I will find a way to join you; if not, we will build our home and family here in Canada. My sense of fate pertains only to where we will reunite, not to the reunion itself—I am certain it will happen, even if the timing is uncertain. This certainty comes from how we met—how naturally we fit together, each complementing the other, forming a unique pair: a Can-Indian. I joke, but it is true. We are one. I am yours, as you are mine. May each minute bring us closer!

Darling, I must end this letter for now. There is so much I wish to share, as you are always in my thoughts. I dream of you at night, think of you during meals, and—even now—I refrain from smoking or drinking Coke, telling myself I will only do so when I see you face to face. Angel darling, you are with me always. We are one. Please take care of yourself, stay healthy for me, and keep smiling - God loves you, and I do too.

I send you a million kisses and hold you tight for a million big, big hugs.

Nive na Prema, Nive Na jeevam, Nive na Sarvam

Your Husband forever, PremAA, André

September 12, 1969 (26)

Montreal

My beloved wife and darling Angel,

Since your quickly written note from your cousin's house in Warangal, I have not received any further correspondence from you, my darling. I had hoped that, after receiving permission from the Bishop to leave your community, it would be easier for you to write. Perhaps you have not yet left the community, or the mail is simply slow—sometimes, letters from India arrive in less than a week.

 Despite this, I still hold hope in my heart that I will read something from you tonight when I return home after work. If not, I will wait patiently until Monday of next week. As usual, I am writing to you on Friday, hoping that you have received my letters and my aerograms sent to your cousin. The waiting is painful when nothing arrives.

This Friday afternoon finds me in my office. Work is not overwhelming; Friday marks the end of the week, and many students do not have class, so the atmosphere is quiet. As the person responsible for Pastoral care, I never have too much work. The students here are detached from religious matters and show little interest—they seldom come to me, so I must seek them out, always being careful to respect their freedom. The greatest mistake would be to push them too much on religious topics, which could lead them to ignore me or create a conspiracy of silence. For this reason, I am very prudent and take my time.

My role in Pastoral care is explained to students as a service—if they desire it, it meets their needs and they will come; otherwise, they do not. Since the beginning of the school year, only eight to ten students have approached me with interest in Pastoral work. I realize I must start with this small group and plan our actions together. This is challenging for me. This morning, while still in bed, I felt pessimistic about my task. Yet, thinking about you, our future, and my apostolic mission, I found motivation to rise and work. If I am here doing my best, it is truly for you and our future, which makes my job easier after all.

This week included only a few personal contacts with students and a few meetings with the student group, administration, and professors. Slowly, I am becoming part of the team, and I have started to offer my opinions within college policy. I also began my teaching duties this week, holding classes on Wednesday from 11h30 AM to 12h20 PM and Thursday from 8h30 AM to 10h30 AM—three periods in total. I feel well accepted by my 36 students, who are quite open-minded. To raise awareness about group interaction, we had a robust discussion about buying and selling caribous (Editorial note: a big buffalo): buying for $600, selling for $700, buying for $800, selling for $900, and so on. The conversation sparked interest even beyond my class, with students from other departments trying to solve the problem. The course has started well, and I thank God for it.

Today, I was supposed to receive my first pay-check. I paused my writing to go and collect it, but the envelopes were not yet in the college. I should receive it around 5h00 PM.

At home, everything is fine. My mother, who had been sick as I mentioned in my last letter, went for a check-up, and her results show she is perfectly healthy—it was just an indisposition. I thank God again, especially as it was her first check-up ever. Tomorrow or Sunday, I plan to visit our small summer villa near a lake for my brother Pierre’s birthday. He recently moved there to become a professor, leaving his previous work in the publicity business. On Monday, I will return to work. Each day, I travel about 65 miles round-trip between home and work. I enjoy this time alone in my car, thinking about you, our future, and all that I must do.

The parish priest visited our home the other day. He is about 45 years old, progressive, and very up to date. My mother had informed him of my departure from the Jesuits and the priesthood. He came with great kindness, assuring me that I am always welcome in the parish and offering his services should I need them. It is heartening to meet such a person, and I hope you will meet many like him as you transition out of your community. On Sundays, I prefer not to attend Mass in our parish to avoid scandal, as few people know me and only two families are aware of my past. I choose to go to a nearby parish instead. I pray for you there.

Angel darling, how are you? What are you doing? It is difficult and painful not to have news from you—not to see your face or hear your songs. "Darling Bala, na Prema, may each minute bring us closer." Enclosed with this letter is a small picture of me, taken two days ago at the college for my identification card. Due to a mistake, I received two cards and kept the first one for you, cutting my picture from it. At the bottom is my boss’s signature, validating the card. I hope you like it; my mother said I looked my best in this one. I wish I had a recent picture of you too.

It is strange how detached and cut off I feel from everything, and I know it is because you are far away. I have no interest in going out, to movies, the theater, or visiting people—I want to be alone and quiet. Analyzing this, I think it is my way of remaining faithful to you. I feel I have no right to enjoy life when you are suffering. I also want to save as much as possible. To economize, I do not eat dinner when working late, saving 80 cents each time—about $4 (20 pesos) per week. It is worthwhile, and I lose nothing by not eating; I did the same in Manila sometimes. I do not drink coke or smoke, all as a sign of my love and dedication to you. People might find this silly, but I know it is not. Love is not stupid, even if others think so. I remember Nebreda’s comments about teenage love in Manila—he would not understand.

Speaking of EAPI and Nebreda, have you heard any news from the Philippines? The academic year must have begun. Do you think news about Joe and Mary Gilbert, and about us, has spread? Since coming here, I have received many letters from Sr. Gaudia, the Sisters of the Little Flowers, and especially from the Sisters of Baguio who sought me out. I have never replied, nor to Bernadette or Sheilla. Lately, I received new teaching materials at my home address—I am not sure who provided it, perhaps Fr. Leetai. For all of them, I remain silent; it is better this way.

Reading the newspapers, there is little news about India. For a period, Andhra was mentioned due to violence and troubles, but now there is nothing, which may mean the situation is better and the mail moves faster. I hope so with all my heart. Internationally, I am worried about the conflict between China and Russia. Angel, let us pray for peace, especially in this time when we are separated.

Angel, beloved, how are your parents and family members? You have not spoken about your mother, father, sister, and brothers for a long time—are they well? How is your recently married brother? Is he still living with your parents, or has he established his own home? Please tell me all these things in your next letter. Tell me about your country and your people—I am deeply interested, as they are also my family now. Share your thoughts and let me know if you still have problems with your bad uncle or with Raj. Please, Na jeevam, be careful!

It is 3 o’clock, still two hours before I can go home—perhaps to find one of your letters waiting for me. Oh God, I cannot cry anymore; my eyes are empty and dry, but there is a terrible, deep burning sensation in my heart. My longing began in Manila at the airport, watching you at the plane’s door, and has only grown deeper. If we do not reunite, I know I will die—there is no other way. You are me; if you are not with me, I am not whole. I will die.

It is now Saturday morning. Yesterday, before leaving the college, I received my salary for my work in Pastoral care for two weeks: $326.92. After deductions for income tax ($68.55, which is quite high) and insurance ($5.47), I received $252.90. I went to the bank and opened an account, depositing $200 and keeping $52 to give to my mother for my car expenses. She does not want the money now and asks for $700 at the end, around February. I wish to give her more, as she has spent about $1,000 for me since I left the Jesuits, but she refuses. I feel a bit ashamed, but I understand that love does not calculate.

Today, the weather here is cool but sunny—a true Canadian autumn. Around noon, I will go to our summer villa on Matembin lake. In the meantime, I will wash, shave, and call the Jesuit provincial to inquire about news from Rome regarding my laicization. I hope for good news.

I am not sure if this letter will reach you quickly. I will address it to Reddipalem, though I am uncertain whether to send correspondence to your cousin or brother. I continue sending them to your brother, as I believe your stay in Warangal was temporary for your visit to the Bishop. If this is not the case, please write to me as soon as possible. I want you to read my letters quickly, knowing what you are experiencing. I am certain you long for me as I do for you and feel the same loneliness without each other.

Even though we suffer, let us keep smiling, remembering the card you gave me for my 35th birthday. Each time I open my wallet and see it, I find the courage to smile at life, knowing that somewhere in India, there is a wonderful woman who needs me, who expects my love and dedication. I want to keep myself in the best physical, moral, spiritual, and psychological condition—for you, for our children, when the time comes soon.

After 56 years (1969-2025) this plastic card is still in André's wallet

Darling wife, let us keep our courage. My love for you is impossible to describe or explain. Angel, I kiss you passionately, my heart on your heart, embracing you with all my strength. I want to show you how devoted I am, to care for you and give you all that I am.

Yesterday, I did not receive any letters from you. Perhaps something will come on Monday. I wait anxiously for your reply.

With millions of kisses, an eternal embrace, and a tender hug of love,

Your Husband, André, PremAA

September 18, 1969 (27)

St. Jérôme

My Beloved and Darling Angel,

Although it is only Wednesday, I feel compelled to write to you after receiving your letter about your liberation. I am deeply grateful to God for this blessing, and it seems that the process was not as difficult as we feared. Truly, I am convinced that God is with us and will continue to guide us. My heart is filled with happiness—first and foremost for you, and for myself. However, I cannot help but feel a tinge of sadness because neither of us has received the other's letters. Please try to discover what might have happened, and if possible, attempt to recover your letters now that you are outside the congregation; it may be easier for you to do so.

As for myself, I received a phone call last night from the Jesuit provincial, informing me that my letters from Rome have arrived. (Appendix 5)These letters pertain only to my departure from the Society of Jesus, not yet to my laicization. This Saturday, I will go to the Provincial House to sign them, which will mark my definite freedom from the Jesuits. Afterward, I will likely need to visit the diocesan chancellery to address the matter of laicization. Please pray fervently, my dearest, that the process will move swiftly, even though I fear it could take up to a year. I am determined to do everything I can to accelerate it and obtain my liberation as soon as possible. There is hope, as laicization will be discussed in Rome during the upcoming synod of bishops with the Pope at the end of October. I am optimistic that their decision will favor me and that the process will proceed more quickly thereafter.

My Angel, you will now be with Anasuya. Please extend my heartfelt gratitude to her. What she is doing for you; she is also doing for me. Regarding the money you requested, I am prepared to send it as soon as possible, but in your next letter, please specify exactly to whom I should make the check payable—whether it should be Angel Mary Singareddy, Bala Singareddy, or Anasuya Reddy. I want to ensure that the money reaches you without any issues, as we cannot afford any loss or unnecessary expenses at this time.

My darling, take great care of yourself, just as I would if I were there with you. Now that you have more time, please write to me often about everything, no matter how small. I long to know all about your life. My love for you is immense, and I send you a million kisses.

Your Husband Forever,

André

P.S. As always, I will write again on Friday. That will be my 28th letter.

September 19, 1969 (28)

St. Jérôme

My beloved Bala,

It is Friday afternoon, and I am in my office at school, taking this moment to write you my weekly letter.

This week has been especially meaningful to me, as I already sent you an aerogram on Wednesday after receiving the joyful news of your release and newfound freedom. Learning that the process went smoothly, with understanding from both the bishop and your mother, and that your village accepted the news without much trouble, filled my heart with gratitude and happiness. I prayed to God, offering thanks for this blessing. After receiving this wonderful news on Tuesday, I wrote to you immediately the next day, hoping my aerogram reached you swiftly. That same evening, I found another long-awaited letter from you at home. This was your first long letter, written calmly and without the usual rush or fear of being discovered by the Sisters. Reading about how you received permission, and about the reactions of your parents, the people around you, and the Sisters, was deeply comforting to me. I have read this letter multiple times, even taking notes to remember all your questions and everything I should answer.

I am glad you remain on good terms with your former congregation and had a chance to chat with the Mother. I wonder if she passed along any of my letters to you; it would be generous of her if she did. However, I am puzzled by how she obtained them, considering they were addressed to your brother. Your mother must wield considerable influence in your village to intercept mail directly from the post office. Jokingly, you could tell her that such actions might be punishable under law, as taking another’s mail is against regulations in India and elsewhere. Now that this ordeal is over, I no longer wish ill upon your Mother General and feel a bit ashamed for the harsh words I previously spoke about her. During that time, I even entertained the thought of seeing her in jail, which, in retrospect, would have been quite a sight.

Your parents have shown interest in learning about me, and I am happy to answer any questions they might have. Please share their inquiries in your future letters, and I will do my best to respond.

Of course, I understand that you may need to translate and adapt my answers to suit their perspectives, as our situations differ greatly. For example, you might need to explain why I must work to earn money, or why I cannot simply fly to you immediately. At home, things are different; since I informed my mother about you and my intention to marry you, she has remained reserved and avoids questioning me about you, respecting my independence. My father shares the same attitude. As for my siblings, Odette and her Husband know everything about you, though we seldom discuss it due to distance. The last time I saw Odette, she suggested that we should marry soon, given our love and commitment. Monique, my youngest sister, also knows about you, even if we have not spoken openly yet. News will gradually spread to my other brothers, but they will accept you wholeheartedly once they learn you are the one I have chosen. I have significant influence within my family, and they trust my judgment and sincerity.

In your long letter, there was a misunderstanding about something I mentioned previously regarding my brother. He never actually showed me a girl; he only joked that he would do so. I replied that I could make my own choices—another light-hearted exchange. My family will never pressure me in these matters, and I am free to follow my heart. Choosing you as my partner is an irrevocable decision, one I am certain is right for eternity.

You asked about my status. As I mentioned in my last aerogram, tomorrow—Saturday—I will go to the Jesuit Provincialate to sign the documents that will officially remove me from the Society of Jesus. The next step is laicization, and I plan to ask tomorrow what exactly needs to be done to obtain it. They may require me to visit the chancellery, and I will do so promptly. Like you, I am eager for complete freedom, as it is necessary for us to plan your coming here or my going to India. I prefer to be the one to join you, as it would be easier for both of us. In India, you would be at home and close to your family, while I would need to adjust, especially if I can secure a job. There is always a risk here in Canada that someone might recognize me, but I would be happy to live in India, adopt your customs, and enjoy your food—even the spicy dishes. If my contract finishes at the end of June, I expect to have $1,500 saved, which should be enough to start our life together in your country. However, I will still need a job, either through an organization here or through your connections. Please let me know your thoughts on this.

I received only one letter from your brother-in-law, to which I replied despite not having any news of you. At the end of your letter, there was a pencil-written note indicating he may have received my reply, though the last word was difficult to read. There was also mention of a second letter with lines crossed out, but I have not heard anything about it yet—perhaps it will arrive soon. I am curious, how early do you still wake up? I feel ashamed knowing you rise at 5h15 AM, while I get up at 7h00 AM or 7h30 AM. My routine includes prayer, a shower, breakfast, and then a 45-minute drive to work by car. I start work at 9h00 AM, skip lunch, and finish by 4h30 or 5h00 PM, returning home by 6h00 PM. Evenings are spent quietly with my parents, watching TV, and I go to bed between 11h00 PM and midnight. Occasionally, I repair things around the house—a skill that will be useful when we have our own home. I am preparing myself for our reunion.

You mentioned learning to cook, and I think it is wonderful, even if your training is different from what you would receive in Canada. I encourage you to continue learning Indian recipes, as I would love for you to prepare Indian food if you come here. If I move to India, I will gladly eat Indian cuisine every day. More important than food, however, is learning to manage a household budget. Our previous experiences taught us little about financial management, so we must avoid unnecessary spending and learn to live within our means. This is crucial for maintaining our household. I see examples of this among my siblings: Jean Guy has a good salary but cannot save, while Robert, with a more modest income, has managed to buy a house and a car. The difference is budgeting; Rachel, Robert’s wife, is a skilled administrator. I am confident that, by being mindful, we will manage well together.

Regarding Joe and Bernadette (Editorial note: Both formal EAPI students ). I have not written to them or anyone who contacted me since leaving Manila, and I do not plan to do so for now. I have my reasons, which I prefer not to explain. The fewer people who know about our departure from our congregations, the less chance there is for scandal. In your religious Congregation, news may spread through Selegrina and the EAPI members. Here, after Saturday when I am officially out of the Society, the news will also begin to spread. This is why I have not written, although I feel sorry for Bernadette, who reached out for comfort. I could not help her by explaining my decision to leave the Society to marry you; it would likely not have helped. Joe expressed remorse about his own decision and its impact on the EAPI, and sharing my situation would probably not benefit him either. Perhaps I will write to them later. If you wish to correspond with Bernadette, here is her address:

Bernadette Thio Sian Lie

Bulahsumur, B-14

Djakarta, Indonesia

Send her my regards.

Starting next week, knowing my letters will reliably reach you, I will write twice a week—an aerogram on Tuesday or Wednesday, and a long letter on Friday. Please, my darling, write often as well. I yearn for your words and want to know everything in your heart and about your daily life. I am doing the same for you. As for your PremAA chain, feel free to change it for a golden one if you think it is better. What matters most is that you remain 100% Indian, even though you love a foreigner and are loved by one. I would hate for you to break any Indian customs because of me. I love you as you are, and you are Indian. If your family believes you should wear a golden chain, and if you wish to, please do so. I remember you love gold; when you chose your watch (which was unfortunately stolen), it was your reason, not your heart, that made you select a silver one. When we are together, I will gift you another watch—a beautiful golden one with the days marked. Take good care of yourself and convey my respects to your parents. I long for you, sending millions and millions of embraces and kisses.

PremAA! Your Husband, André

September 24, 1969 (29)

Darling Bala,

How are you, my love and na Jeevam? Today is Wednesday, and as I promised in my last letter, I am writing to you again. Since I received your two letters at the beginning of last week, I have not heard any more news from you yet. Perhaps something will arrive today!

Things are progressing well here in my work. More students are coming to see me and to talk with me. My course in Human Relations is also going well, although this morning I sensed that something might be happening among the students. I believe there is a defensive mechanism at play for some of them. This morning, I explained to them about the concept of a T-Group—a self-discovery seminar. I suggested that it could be beneficial for us to conduct one together. While the idea was generally well received, I noticed that some students reacted strongly, even if not openly. Tomorrow in my course, I will need to address this. I am not yet certain how, but I still have time until tomorrow to decide on my approach.

There are groups of students who are interested in group dynamics and have approached me to help organize weekend sessions at the end of October—the last two weekends of the month. It appears that I will need to accompany them, which should be a good experience! If all goes well, I hope to be invited to participate even more in these activities in the future. Within this context, I am fulfilling my responsibilities as the person in charge of Pastoral work.

Regarding the Pastoral, I am gradually organizing a team of students who are interested in this area. We are also planning a weekend retreat. Tomorrow, we have a meeting to decide what topics we will discuss during those two days together. This summarizes my current work. It is going well, although I do not think I will take on the role of responsible leader next year. I continue to hope very much for an opportunity to go to India and establish our home in your country.

My beautiful wife, I wonder what you are doing now. I hope you are happy, now that you have gained your complete freedom. Mine should come as well—patience!

Last Saturday afternoon, as I mentioned in my previous letter, I went to the Jesuit Provincial house to sign my resignation letters. Now, my beloved, I am officially no longer a Jesuit. I am free from the Order, and I have received official documentation stating that I was once a member of the Society but left before taking my final vows. I am also released from my religious vows. Now, the major step that remains is my laicization. I must begin the procedures again, starting with a visit to the chancellery and proceeding from there.

I called yesterday to try to reach the diocesan priest in charge of laicization cases, but he was not available. I hope to see him on Thursday night. According to the Father I met at the Provincial House, it could take between four to six months to obtain my complete freedom. Dearest, let us pray that this moment will arrive soon, so that we will be united not only in thought and heart, but also in body.

Sending you millions of caresses and tender smiles. I look forward to seeing you again through my long letter this Friday.

Your Husband, kissing you infinitely,

André

September 26, 1969 (30)

St. Jérôme

Beloved Bala,

I call you Bala because, through your letters since your release, I sensed that you prefer this name over your sister’s. I may be mistaken, since once, while we were in our room discussing this, you mentioned that "Angel" was more pleasing to you than "Bala." At that time, you shared that being called Bala reminded you of your "Dirty Uncle." But perhaps your feelings have changed, and you now prefer to be addressed as Bala.

For my part, while I cherish calling you "Angel," I also love to call you "Bala." By using this name, I honor your uniqueness. I have met many people called Angel—Angela from the EAPI, another catechist in Taiwan—but I have met only one Bala, and that is you, my darling. My Bala darling! My Bala Wife! My Bala forever! Bala means small, doesn’t it?

Here in Canada, autumn has arrived. The days are growing cooler, between 50- and 65-degrees Fahrenheit, and the landscape is becoming stunningly beautiful. The maple leaves are turning red, and it is the first time in nine years that I have witnessed this wonderful transformation. It is as if the forest is ablaze with color. How I wish I could be with you, walking together through the forest to marvel at these colors. One day soon, perhaps! I doubt you would be able to wear a sari then, since it is too cool, but with a warm sweater and jeans or a western skirt, you would be comfortable and able to enjoy it. We could laugh and sing about the moon—I have the melody, and your voice is in my ears. The words sound like "masakatikalila." It is unfortunate that I do not know Telugu, and we could also sing our Christmas song: "Baluda mudu Baluda...." After a while, you might become tired, and I would carry you in my arms, far away. There would be no fear of being seen, unlike on Quezon Boulevard, and no one would object to seeing you in my arms. How wonderful that would be!

Your last aerogram arrived Wednesday afternoon, just after I mailed my own letter to you. It alarmed me to read that you had been sick—so sick that you were bedridden and worried about us. My Angel do not worry if you do not receive letters (I send two a week: one aerogram and one long letter). Any delay will not be because I do not write, but because of other circumstances. In India, there are reports of unrest between Hindus and Muslims, and here in Canada, there is talk of a postal strike at the end of October or early November. I hope the mail system will not be disrupted by these events. I repeat: if you do not hear from me, it is due to these reasons, not because of me. I am faithful to you, always. Please, darling, do not get sick. Take care of yourself as I would if I were with you. I will do the same if I do not receive your letters; I will know it is not your fault but something else. I know how loyal and faithful you are. My only worry would be if you were ill, but what can we do? We must endure. One day, everything will be beautiful!

This week, I received my second paycheck—$450, which is larger than usual because it includes my salary as both responsible for Pastoral and as a teacher in Psychology. I deposited all the money in the bank, saving for when we will be together. Another piece of good news: although my teaching contract was initially only for the first session until December, I have now been assured that I will also teach in the second semester, this time social psychology. This shows that the administration is satisfied with my teaching, which encourages me greatly. God is good and loves us—thanks be to Him.

I had planned to go to Matembin lake for the weekend, but this morning, I changed my mind. I will stay home and prepare the notes for my course to give to my students. I promised them these notes from the beginning but could not make them as my typewriter was being repaired. It should be ready tonight. This weekend, I may also need to write another document concerning my laicization.

As I mentioned in my aerogram on Wednesday, I called the priest in charge of the process at the Chancellery. He told me I did not need to visit him now, as he would send me a questionnaire to answer by mail. Once I respond, he will call me. I should receive the questionnaire today and will answer and send it tomorrow. I will do my best to complete my laicization as soon as possible, just as you wish. Only after everything is in order with the church will we marry properly, though I doubt I will be free by December, as it takes four to six months to receive the letters. Let us pray and work for the fulfillment of our wishes.

There will be a wedding at home next week, though not a large one. I may have mentioned before that my mother’s sister Juliette, who is a widow, has befriended a widower, and they have decided to marry next week, on October 2nd. Only the couple, two witnesses, and my mother will attend—no guests. It is understandable since the bride is 62 and the groom is 65. Aunt Juliette, who has been living at home, will move to another province with her Husband. As a result, I think I will take her former room. This makes me dream about our own wedding. I wish very much for it to be in India, but as we decided before, it will not be a big celebration. It will be a quiet feast, and soon after we will begin our married life together.

My Bala darling, how is your family?

In one of my previous letters—which you may not have received—I asked for more information about them: the big feast, anniversaries, and the times to greet people. My intention is to mark these events when the time comes. I would also love to know the names of all your brothers and sisters and their children, so that I can write to them when appropriate. If possible, please send this information soon. When I have time, I read about India and your rich civilization. I cannot ask you to do the same for Canada and its culture; we are a young country with almost no tradition, a bit barbaric compared to India. We do not have a long history or past. You will see this in the two albums I am sending—one on Canada, the other on Montreal—for you and your family. They will give you an idea of Canada, Montreal, and the place you may one day live. It will take some time before you receive these books, as I am sending them by regular mail to save money. I hope you get them before Christmas.

In your last two letters, you mentioned a second letter from your brother-in-law, which I have not yet received. Please tell him I am still waiting and will reply as soon as it arrives. If needed, I will also write to Anasuya at the first opportunity. I am glad you have such a good friend, and it is wonderful to know your parents, brothers, and sister are so kind. I long to meet them all!

Are you planning to do anything besides staying at home? I am still waiting for your long letter that recounts everything from the beginning. You cannot imagine how eager I am to know all about you and your life. I have saved all your letters in a special box. When we are both very old, we will read them again. Although I yearn for your big letter, do not tire yourself by writing it all at once. Write bit by bit; I do not want you to exhaust yourself. I understand how demanding such a task is. Even though I wish to know everything you have endured, if you do not feel like writing now, it is fine—we can wait until we are together again, and then you can share everything as I will open my heart to you.

It is now 3h10 PM. I am at my desk in my office. My head feels heavy, and the weather is dreary today. My stomach is empty, as I skipped lunch. I will have a good supper at home at 6h00 PM. Friday afternoons at the college are quiet, and many students have already left for the weekend. I cherish these afternoons, as I can spend them almost entirely with you in mind. When I write to you, it feels as though you are here beside me. I can almost smell your fragrance and feel your warmth. What will it be like when you are truly in my arms? When I hear the pulse of your heart and lay my head on your breast, it will be heaven. It will be peace—the opposite of the loneliness I have felt since your departure from Manila.

Darling, Nive na Jeevam, nive na sarvam—my love, my whole, my life. May each minute bring us closer! On the watch I will give you, to replace the not-so-nice watch bought in Manila, I hope you will remember me. I would also love to have a fresh picture of you in your nicest sari. Remember our plan from Christmas to have a photo taken together, with you in a sari—a nice one sent by your uncle, which never arrived. I wish to have a picture of you with your gold chains, just as you would have liked to be photographed with me. In return, I will send you a picture of myself in my new suit. Is it a deal? Only if it is possible, without causing trouble or expense.

As I reach the end of my letter, I feel empty and sad, just as I did that first time at the Manila airport. Your image at the airplane door will forever remain in my memory, along with the tears, sorrow, and heartbreak. The yearning to be with you, to embrace and kiss you, while a vast barrier separates us, is painful. It is hard, darling. Oh, God!

Still, let us keep smiling. The sun of our smiles, mixed with the tears of our sadness, will create the rainbow of our reunion. In hope and love, darling Bala—wife of mine, Angel beloved—let us be one forever. I kiss and embrace you infinitely. I long for you with all my being. I am yours forever.

PremAA

Your Husband, André

September 30, 1969 (31)

St. Jérôme

Darling,

As you requested in your last letter, I am writing to you today, Tuesday—not Wednesday as I have done for the past two weeks.

Over the last couple of days, I have not been feeling entirely myself. It is not that I am unwell, but rather, I have been feeling a bit sad, very lonely, and pessimistic about everything and nothing. My main concern has been my job as the person responsible for the Pastoral. The work feels dull and uninspiring. However, I know that we cannot always do what we wish. I am not alone in feeling this way; the person responsible for Socio-cultural activities at the college shares similar sentiments. Despite our persistent efforts and planning, there is an overwhelming sense of inertia among the students—so much planning, but little to no action.

Sometimes, I imagine how wonderful it would be if I could one day work for SUCO and be close to you in India. Achieving happiness seems to be a difficult task.

Recently, I finally received a letter and a response from the chancellery concerning my laicization. They have asked me to provide another account of my life. I will send them the one I previously wrote to obtain my dismissal letter from religious life, following the schema they provided. I plan to respond as soon as possible—tomorrow, if I can. After that, the priest in charge will call for me, and the process of my laicization will begin. I hope the process will move quickly. I am truly tired of all these procedures; it is exhausting to repeatedly bare oneself and share so much with others. But, beloved wife and darling Bala, I will do it once more for you, to prove my great love for you.

Last weekend, I mentioned that I would go to our summer house to enjoy the beautiful landscape of the countryside. In the end, I did not go. Instead, I stayed at home and worked diligently all weekend to prepare my lectures in Human Relations and to write notes for the students. I ended up writing twenty-one pages. I hope to go to the lake this week, if God wills it.

The weekend after that will be a long one, as the 13th is Thanksgiving Day here. During that weekend, I plan to visit Odette, who lives in Hull, a town near Ottawa, the capital of Canada. I intend to speak to her about you, as I truly need someone who can understand us. I also thought of speaking to my other sister, Monique—she is almost your age—but I have not yet had the opportunity.

This afternoon, I went to the post office to mail two albums for you and your family, about Canada and Montreal. You should receive them within two months, and I hope you will enjoy them.

Angel, my darling, I love you! Please take good care of yourself and enjoy this time with your family. Give my affection and gratitude to your brothers, sister, and especially to your father and mother.

Your Husband forever, André