‘Literary Impulse’ is the personal blog of a certain person who likes to call himself as John Wick. On this web-space, he shares his views on various things of the world.

This blog is about humanity, adventure, loneliness and faith.

My mind is full of thoughts and I need to put them somewhere lest I get mad.
Today when I woke up my father was above my head with a glass of lukewarm water. I woke up and picked up my medicine box and took in my seven am medicine. My father was to leave me at college for an extra class. (Side-note: Why is the rule of ‘Association’ written as assoc. and not just ass.?)
I reached my class early and slept for a while till the professor came and then the classes began. It is a two hour lecture, which bores you to the limit if your teacher is not interesting. I did not get bored after one hour. But at sharp 10 AM, my alarm began to ring, and I put my hand inside my bag. I found that I had forgotten my medicines.
Its my error. Should have checked my bags.
But then, it was bound to happen at least once. We forget medicines.
I had to leave my class in between, which was kind of frustrating because I had come to college just for one class, and this also I had to leave. It is difficult, specially when you have a little fever out of mental tiredness.
Anyway, whatever I wrote till now, is just to emphasise that I DID NOT PANIC.
I love this part of this story. I DID NOT PANIC. I am happy for myself.

But this post is not about my forgotten medicines. This post is about a little girl I saw and my reaction to her appearance in my life.

My mind is particularly ‘Logical’, perhaps that is why my writing is kind of logical too.

1) I saw a little girl.
1.1) At a traffic light. The point where IGNOU road meets Aurobindo marg. Location is important. It is supposed to be a posh location.
1.2) She was wearing a brown stained piece of cloth. Kurta pyjama type thing. I don’t have a name.
1.3) Her body is bent. And she was doing some sort of acrobatics. With a ring. Rolling on the ground. In the middle of the road. Like in circus.

2) Something happened. I cannot explain in words. I do not know what the reason was.
2.1) I began weeping. I have tears in my eyes even now. I do not know why. I want know why? (Edit: After finishing this article, I have realised that the tears have gone. Questions have replaced tears.)

3) I am definitely not OVERTLY concerned about the poverty of the world.
3.1) I believe most of the things we care about are actually a matter of luck. Even the thing you care about is a matter of luck.
3.2) Here was I, sitting like a bloody king in an auto and there was this little girl of twelve (or was she actually sixteen?) who had to bear the filthy steam of Delhi in order to get some money out of which a major portion she was going to give to a filthy dalal. There is perhaps no answer to this question (a question is implied, clearly) except acceptance. And yet…

4) After her acrobatics, the girl began going from one vehicle to another.
4.1) There was an SUV and there was a good looking girl in black specs inside it. And the woman was fat and her face was round with fat.
4.2) I understand there is no answer to the question: ‘Why such a difference?’ but I am searching for an answer: Why should it affect me so much when in reality I am a Hobbesian?

5) I ended up giving the girl a ten rupee note. She was at least NOT BEGGING. Though, I have never been able to properly define ‘begging’ for myself. We all are beggars, and it is a myth that we are not. Only super intelligent people (intelligent by luck; it is just a matter of arrangement of nerve cells. nothing to be proud of. simple biological fact. this fact should be thrown at people as much as possible to show them how logically contradictory they are, if they make a big deal of a person’s intelligence) like me can understand this very simple fact. It was an act of intelligence as there was a ‘very deep’(again: a constructed notion) reason) why I inducted a large subtext between subject and predicate of my statement.

6) How can anyone have ego? How can you be proud of something? How can you claim something to be ‘yours’?

7) The curse of ‘there must be more’. Anesthetize, Porcupine Tree.

My present thoughts consist of the newest place I am trying to find a place in. It is a pity I have not yet been able to fully employed (and it was better if I was working rather than ‘studying’ because formal education sucks lollipop) but its all right I guess, considering the amount of hoopla I make in my mind whenever I think of going for a job. To and fro and to and for has been a tiring journey. [Of course it is a metaphor.]

Nevertheless, what I have been doing is: going to college, listening to the teachers like the most ideal student of the world, grasping what they talk about (after an hour I am usually blank though thanks to my lowered attention span and medicines), come back home and read my stuff. Currently I am going through a book called ‘The concept of mind’ by Gilbert Ryle and also an introductory book on Indian Philosophy. Indian philosophy is interesting, to some extent. I am also taking my exams which is actually tough because; ALWAYS the day before exam, I get this intense melancholy for the idea of ‘rebel’ and I do not want to study. So yes, a lot of things going on…

But there is a habit. Which is important. Which I wanted to mention.
And it is the way I run back home after the class. (I have to because I have work, there is always some work. Money and stuff.) I find it weird. And it is weird because I run back not exactly because I have a lot of work. Work is just an excuse I make, to justify my lack of interest in talking with people.

I am trying to understand ‘happiness’ here. And I have never been able to suffer through a group. Group is the key word, and suffer a very strong one. But I had to use them. I have to suffer when I am forced through a group.



I think it is more to do the ‘destruction’ my loneliness has done on my psyche. But is it really a kind of destruction? Because I am able to talk a lot to ‘one person’! I can talk about hundred thousand things to one people.

Is it the smoking of people then?


I don’t actually care about what the other is doing unless the smoke goes straight into my nose. I don’t like smoking. I don’t ‘not-like’ smokers. So what is it which forces me to NEVER FEEL AT HOME in a group of more than three people? Why do my lips get stuck with each other when I stand in front of a group? Why can’t I speak my thoughts when my mind is actually bubbling with hundreds of thoughts? Why am I not happy when I am in front of other people?

And yet the paradoxical thing is – I want to be.

I want to stand with them and listen to them speak. Just listen. I am like that idiot in FRIENDS, who called himself a listener. I have hundreds of opinions but I am not going to give them to you unless I am talking to you in private over phone or via Whatsapping… or I am writing on this piece of electronic sheet. Either the whole world is a group to me, or nothing is. This is a significant idea.

[shall edit this post as and when, it is going to be a long investigation into nature of happiness]
I wrote the title of this post, before writing anything, by the way. And right now I am listening to the number: The way home, by Sleep Dealer.
I am too full of thoughts, and the weird thing is, I don’t know what the content of those thoughts is. I am still asleep with a dream which cannot be quantified in terms of a few words, and words are all coming out of me. It is not a weird state, and I am not going to check this post for grammatical errors before publishing it, as has usually been my policy.
Grammar is for nut-jobs, as the professor said today, and if I am able to put across my message to the world (like I am Buddha) then my work is done and I don’t need a grammar. But I know that I have no message whatsoever give to the world. I am just babbling here, like a monkey, and I am a monkey.
I have recently come across a new genre called post rock and it rocks, even though I had been listening to it for quite some time, but the label, ‘post rock’ is pretty new and fascinating. And isn’t it weird that after coming across the term, some songs have taken an altogether new value?
This is a surface thought. The primary thought which plagues cannot be easily put across. After remaining empty after so long, and with so much time to think between one place to next which I have to cover with various modes of public transport, my mind is bubbling with thoughts. An event has occurred and it is of private nature. This events is exhausting me and my thoughts.
But I am happy, still confused about why I am different from people in general, but happy. (Don’t stay here, Frames)

There is one thing I have realised and knew for a long time. People are generally good. I mean THEY WANT to be good. (I am using ‘good’ in the way Socrates/Plato) They are just suspicious of each other, and given enough time, they really want to be completely honest about their feelings. Sadly, we live in a world, where the idea of ‘success’ has overpowered us to such an extent that we are forever torturing our ‘souls’ (or whatever it is, there is something, I don’t know what it is) with ideas of ‘doubt’.
Some of us doubt our existence. And most: others. We will never accept it but we are forever doubting. And since the day I stopped doubting, I have been happy. I am more naked to the world, than those who are active on facebook, but still the world desires to be on facebook, because facebook is a curtain.
Ofcourse facebook is just a metaphor, for ‘social interaction’.

I may have discovered (for myself) the key to happiness. Perhaps that is what I was looking for, and perhaps that is why I was not happy before. I have developed a weird habit of overplaying my ego. It is funny because I am so self-conscious.

It is difficult to ascertain how the other minds think. But since the time, I have decided to help everyone who I think may need help, spread a smile around me, and laugh even though the situation is shit, I have been content. Happy would be a strong word, because happiness is sometime connected to a specific person, a specific wish…but I have been content. Helping others (when it does not bother you) is a really worthy thing.
And I guess my personal love for Aristotle continues to upsurge as I go through his Nicho and agree that yes, A VIRTUOUS LIFE IS A SOURCE OF HAPPINESS BY ITSELF.

“One swallow does not make a summer,
neither does one fine day;
similarly one day or brief time of happiness does not make a person entirely happy.”
― Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics

“Virtue lies in our power, and similarly so does vice; because where it is in our power to act, it is also in our power not to act…”
― Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics

I am in a train and what happens is this.
A young man and a young woman come and sit in front of me. They are married perhaps because the woman is sticking too close to man. Her hand is constantly wound around his hands and the guy looks around as if he owns the world. They are going to Agra I know because I am awesome and details usually don’t escape me. They are watching a movie on a phone, lovey dovey way you know… kind of pukish for someone like me who hates such couples because he doesnot have a similar life. A general attitude. We hate things we don’t have.
Anyway, something comes. I do not know what it is because I am not used to travelling in Shatabdi. This is in fact, my first chance. The fastest train in India it is. Something is placed on our table (this is the middle table, seat number in 35s’ in CC car, the only seats which are facing each other) and the man (rather a boy, younger than me) jumps up and utters an ‘appropriate adjective’, shouts up. Its a stick. Its a stick. Eat it . Its good. To his girl. Clearly he wants to show that he is so used to travelling in Shatabdi that he finds it boring. You have to be there to understand what I am saying.
What happens next is this – I giggle.
Thank God I wear a mask. The guy becomes self conscious and looks around. He eyes me for a second and I smile. Of course he cannot see my smile… that is why I smiled in the first place.
He goes back to introducing to his girl a stick made of fine flour (mattthi), who refuses.
Now I do not giggle. Atleast not aloud. I begin putting my stick into my mouth (without the butter of course :/) I already know that the girl is play-acting. I do not know her mind (would like to know why girls do that) but after ten minutes of coaxing from the guy (incidently the guy continues persisting), she picks up the stick and begins munching into it.
The guy becomes a lion and says – I told you!
I Facepalm.
I like watching such games. Since my fate seems to be such that I may never play such games.
(written/finished on 20:34, 19.08.2016, Morena Railway station)
Since, I may not have a train journey for a long long time, I thought I should keep the pics I clicked.
These pics are clicked at a very speed.


The question “why me?” has haunted me for a better part of my life. From a safe distance it was always easy for people to suggest something constructive, but it was really tough, getting your shit back together and beginning again. Life is full of beginnings and ends.

But in the light of some recent events, I think I might have found the perfect response to this question.

A very short note on what has happened recently:

  1. I got stomach infection. Got paranoid. Disturbed my doctors. Went to emergency and came back with Antibiotics.
  2. Not days later, I got very high fever. Got paranoid. Got my blood checked by myself, got CR too high, panicked and again rushed to emergency to be again suggested anti-biotics.
  3. While going to hospital with reports, I got my father’s second hand car smashed into another car. Visited police, panicked. Escaped from getting imprisoned. Came back and lost 25 thousand of father/brother.
  4. In the university, I forgot my ORIGINAL tenth and twelfth certificate, hated myself, rushed back in the evening (in the same treated car without telling father). Searched through rain in panic, luckily found the certificates.
  5. Went to bathroom, slipped, managed to save my head from bursting and right now my left hip is bruised and I cannot walk properly.

All the above occurred in a span of ten days.

Now should I ask the question: ‘Why me?’ Perhaps yes because it is a simple case of bad luck, something like “MAHADASHA”

But am I really in a position to curse my so called luck? I asked myself instead. I was tired of asking ‘Why Me?’ I guess it was bound to happen.

Anyway. I saw the cases as simply as possible.

  1. My mistake. Should have eaten carefully. It MY mistake that I got infected.
  2. I had to bear with it. As simple as possible.
  3. I mean really!. Bad luck was it?
  4. LOL. What if I get tired and my head starts getting cloudy and I begin wayward and my reflexes get stupid and I tend to forget such things. Have been afflicted with this for twenty or so years. Why can’t I have a proper system. Don’t blind people have?
  5. Again, what can I do, except taking rest at home?

I have been thinking, and when I think about these things and when I have chosen NOT TO TALK about them with people (I have to have an outlet, so writing) I have realised an important law of life. It is quite simple. The answer to question, ‘Why me?’ is laughter and unbowed head.

Suddenly finding myself busy after a gap of three or so years (I was busy even then but it was a different kind of busyness), I have realised how much I used to pester people in my supposedly free time at odd hours. I would often ping them at odd times and since people are usually polite, they would begin making useless excuses which clearly were marks of my intrusiveness.

Being physically active and roaming around does put a little pain on my body, and I have suffered a few consequences. Like for a simple example, I got drenched in rain one day and the other day, I had fever of 102, which is alright except that, I panic a lot. But when you get yourself exposed to environment like that, you cannot avoid certain mishaps, and you cannot live in a shelled environment for ever.

So I am also trying not to panic.

I am still not active on Facebook. (For LI FB page, I use a ghost FB account, which is needed for sign up in various sites) because one, I do not have my password and my friend does not give it to because she thinks I waste a lot of time there, which is in fact the truth. But importantly, Facebook is really a waste of time and energy. It tires me mentally and physically and I also get disgusted with the sheer waste of social opinions of people on various topics which are biased and mindless that I end up ‘liking’ all of them. For me, to be in touch with people, we do not need facebook and I don’t go out to places to have pictures posted online, at least not now. So yes, it is more personal. And I have to thank my friend for helping me.

Now, the main topic. Why do I play chess?

If one day you find me in metro with my phone and my earphones, you are sure to find a game of chess there. I am playing a lot of chess and of course not losing all. I love playing chess. But love is not the only reason why I play so much.

I play chess to get ahead of ‘depression’ and avoid it. It keeps me occupied. Chess employs that part of my mind which is rational, not sentimental, not involved with emotions. So whenever I am playing chess, I am usually devoid of those thoughts which have been afflicting me for a long time.

A line on my depression: I have realised that it is not as much related to my illness or the quote-unquote “bad” things which happen to me but more related to my own attitude. Depression is a state of mind. A response to existing conditions and a person can be depressed even when everything around him is alright. So in a way chess is an evasive strategy. Instead of dealing with what I have, I trying to avoid it which usually is a counterproductive measure.

But in truth, in my opinion, playing chess of involving oneself in any such activity is not just escaping. It is also remedial, and that is the whole point of my writing this whole article.

I am not a psychologist, neither someone who studies minds. So I have no explanation to give in support of my thesis. But I am somehow sure that playing chess is helping me in overcoming what can only be called depression.

Whenever I begin feeling even a tinge of unhappiness or weirdness in the air and a kind of longing, I at once pick up my phone and start playing chess. In addition to music, (a game like) chess is intensely therapeutic. I hope a researcher takes up this topic, or perhaps it has already been done?

Play with me at the chess game of Zynga.


Pre script: I am writing this as I think. I am not going to edit it or read it before publishing it. I like such kind of writings, when you actually ‘say’ something by putting into words.


Life is a strange method by which we try to exclude and include the fanciful notions of what life is by understanding what life is not and what life actually is. It is a strange statement I know, and I also know that most of the times I do not make sense even to myself. That is a quality I do not want to change about myself.

For the past few days I have been lying on bed and watching movies and FRIENDS and movies and I have been thinking and doing nothing. I don’t like what the world has to give except what the world has to give in terms of its absence. I do not actually miss it, really I do not miss it. Its like a spark which was not never there is NOW not there and all I am doing is waiting for that spark to light again. Yes. Waiting is a very loaded term and wait do we all, but most of the waits of people are usually step by step by step by step procedures. They wait for something and they know what they are waiting for, and they work for it, and when they realise that they have got it, they take another step toward the next wait. But for me it is quite different. Because I wait and I stand on a rung of the ladder and continue standing there.

Curiously I am reminded of that image of Tom from Mark Twain who was famously hung on a ladder it was? with a paint brush in his hand. It was an image in an old text book. Anyway. Life is such and blah blah and it is not really sad.

Now I AM NOT bound by anything and yet there is a kind of sloth in me. I mean I can very well stand up and walk and run and do all that sort of stuff which gives momentum to life. And yet everyday, like a shameless sloth, I heap my ass on the bed and watch a TV series or watch a movie and analyse the movie in my mind and what else do I do?

At the age of 27, you are not supposed to do that, And last year I was turning from direction to another on my bed waiting for something which now I have got: LIFE, and still I am letting it go away like that?

Interestingly, this is a question I am just acutely aware of. I just cannot make up my mind to do anything about it. I have completely cut my self off from my friends (were they my friends?) I am like a load on my father’s ass, working as much as I can to make for medicines, and then I sloth. That’s all I do. It may be called sad, and I do not see it. Why don’t I see it thus. Am I used to this life style?

I do not know. Because I am not under any kind of pressure now. Or perhaps that is the reason…that I have stopped giving value to pressure. That I do not respond to pressure. I am happy being an animal without a motivation. Even God cannot help a person who begins thinking that he needs help, and I am not being critical of myself.

It is a weird state to be in. I want to get out of it and yet stay back too.


Let me list out the movies/TV series I have seen for the past two months.

  1. The aviator
  2. No country for old man
  3. Whiplash
  4. Finding Dory
  5. Conjuring 2
  6. Game of thrones
  8. Prison Break
  9. SUITS
  10. Zootopia
  11. Captain america-civil war
  12. Jungle book
  13. love and friendship
  14. walking dead
  15. High noon
  16. throne of blood
  17. BArry lindon
  18. Jaws
  19. Stranegrs on a train
  20. terminator
  21. BATMAN – all by Nolan
  22. Inception
  23. martian
  24. intersteller

blah blah the list is long. The strange part is, as I must have said, I should be feeling pathetic about myself, but I don’t.

And there is the NEW MUSIC, I am discovering through my journey of youtube. Check out: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLfOaK3JQr6qMFzJh77CP6jM3dOHmRIuoU

It is a lonely, but lonely journey.

I have been binge watching FRIENDS for a long time (Now I am on season 6). I don’t know why people of this age do it, but I guess it has become a universal phenomena for some, the idea of binge watching a TV series, and I enjoy it very much specially when I don’t feel like working.

Anyway, FRIENDS has gone through many changes over the years. It is the story of six best friends who hang out with each other all the time, and I guess I am boring myself because I know everyone knows what FRIENDS is about. The only people who haven’t watched this TV series are those who are actually living such life as that represented by the six friends, or those who are too focussed on their careers.

I would love to give a long speech about how this series has taken forms in my life but I had had a long conversation about this idea with a friend and I guess that is more preferable than writing it here. Plus I am really not in the mood to write with my season 6 left. The very small summary is : initially I watched it because I wanted to have a life like the people in the series (indianised version), now I watch it so that I can convince myself that such a life is not in my fate and I have to be happy with what I have.

I have begun to love Aurelius, if you know what I mean!

I am also helping a couple of FRIENDs with their relationship issues and that is helping me understand finer aspects of love and in this direction, they also show me various posts they read to understand it themselves. And I guess here, I want to share one of those posts which I really found worthy of attention.

I mean this definition somehow echoes life…it is a unique perspective, something which comes so naturally to those who know how to love and hard to come by to those who are still embroiled in the doubts if they really love.

Look at the following answer from Quora to the question: WHAT MAKES LOVE LAST?


And here I put an extract to point out what I feel is the gist:

“I knew it was not my place, but out of curiosity I asked him, “So baba (grandsire) what is it that keeps your love alive for each other”

He was visibly curious and a little agitated; perhaps this was a frequent question for him.

He took a deep breath, looked at me and said, “Beta (son) there is only one secret to the long lasting love” “You must always VALUE your partner” he added.

This isn’t exactly a magic spell I wondered.

He continued, “When you Value your partner you strive to keep her with you. In order for that to happen you start caring for her; you start respecting her; you treat her as a valuable asset; you make conscious efforts to make her happy. When you do all this, you get all of this in return.”

So you Value her every single day of your life and everything else would follow up and everything would fall in its place.”

I kind of loved this definition. And it should not be applied to the case of a guy for a girl. Instead of ‘her’ in the extract ‘him’ would have easily filled.

Two people can love each other dearly, but often they begin doubting if they are even right for the other and put questions like ‘compatibility’ but as far I have seen people, only those people are happy with their partners, when they really value each other and TAKE TIME to explain to each other what they think. Unless you value, you do not even want to communicate.

As I see, there are two aspects to relationships: 1. two people love each other 2. two people understand how to love each other

The first step is beyond our control. We cannot choose whom we get attracted to. We love the one we love. It is very simple.

But the second step is a little complicated. Because ‘since we see the world in our own image’ we begin expecting that the other will understand us, our actions. Sometime we do not make efforts to FIND what how the other one wants to be loved. Sometime we do not make efforts to TELL the other how we want to be loved. I guess that’s how things go. Finding is as important as telling because this completes the communication circle. And we make effort to find and tell only when we value the other. So somehow, giving the other value is as important at the start of a relationship as it is at the end.

The idea of ‘forever love’ has often intrigued me. A friend of mine used often to tell me how much he loves this girl who is beautiful trustworthy and blah blah.
I often found something different about their relationship, for in my opinion, they were not actually in a relationship. He was head over heals for her, he worshipped her like every thing. He would often tell me how happy he feels when the two of them talk or meet. But their frequency of meetings was less, and she often made excuses not to meet him.
Now, I do not know her. I have not met her but I was sure that something was really in the wrong. I felt that she was may be just tagging him along.
Was she one of those girls who like to have two boy friends? One outside, the marriage material, and the other with whom she meets everyday and has fun with… Such girls are the ‘bitch’ types. Or may be the girl was too insecure to meet him and lay out insecurities out. I really am in no position to judge.
See the thing about forever love is. It is forever only on a few conditions. Forever love usually does not exist in this world because ‘love’ as such (in my observations of the world) is more material. It requires mutual communication. Unless people talk and go through the changes of life together, love cannot live. But yes, I cannot rule out the fact that there are some ill people who get so besotted with some other person that they begin believing that there love is forever. And believe me, their love IS forever.
And yet, forever love can die. Like in the example of my friend. He told me that he love her infinitely and for life. And yet today he tells me that may be it was all an illusion. He is fighting with himself today and often describes his position as that of a dog.
An incident happened between them and there was another guy involved in which the girl got too intimate with another guy. I really can’t say the guy is in the wrong in behaving the way he is. May be his perspective is wrong. May be he has insufficient data, but as he tells me, the girl does not tell him anything. ‘And every time I watch her with him so close on social networking sites, my love falls a little notch. In fact whenever I feel begin uneasy and sad, I look at those pics which I have downloaded in my phone, and I feel a calm. That yes, if she does not respect me why should I even love her. But I do love her yaar. She is not telling me something.’ He tells me. ‘We two ourselves have never been so close. And she is always hanging around with him. Why shouldn’t I feel the way I am feeling? She does not even care to explain me anything.’
So yes, forever love can die. Every thing dies eventually, forever love dies with the person in most cases, but in some there are a few factors.
And I think one of them is RESPECT . If a person is not respected enough, he slowly walks away.
If we look at human psychology closely, we shall find that RESPECT is something a human being is forever after. Almost every action of ours can be reduced to ‘pursuit of respect’.
And respect is not an abstract concept. It is not like ‘I may treat you like a shit in public but in private, in my heart, I respect you.’ It is more tangible. It is real time experience. You have to show by your actions that you respect the other person. ‘I mind it but my love is not so affected by her meeting me less than usually people do, as by the fact that she does not respect me’ He says. And in this I will explain a ‘slightly unrelated’ idea…
The idea of testing – Often we find an insecure person falling in love. Most of us insecure in one of the other. We are all complexes, some more so. So we test a person before accepting him/her as partners. Now in this process of testing we have to be careful that we are not disrespecting him/her. ‘I will not respect him/her and if s/he still loves me then I can be sure that s/he really loves me’ is a wrong idea. Love can go through almost anything but it cannot love against disrespect. Once you start disrespecting the other, you run the risk of losing him/her. And if s/he still ‘loves’ even after you have disrespected him/her thoroughly, then you can be sure that s/he has an ulterior motive behind ‘loving’ you.
The above described ‘idea of testing’ has an interesting paradox embedded in it. When you continuously testing a person by various methods which involve not respecting him, then you are clearly showing that you do not love him (I am using ‘him’ to make things easier, ‘him’ should be read as ‘him/her.) because respect is an important ingredient of love. You cannot love/should not love a person unless you respect him enough.
Now think about the guy. If you are not respecting him (even if you have ulterior motive of testing him) he is bound to conclude that you do not love him and since ‘you do not love him’ his own love is bound to get affected. Think about it. ITS a vicious CIRCLE. You are not loving him to see if he loves you enough and he stops loving you because you are not respecting him. And you will continue testing him unless he begins loving upto a certain level and he will stop himself from loving you to his hundred percent unless you stop testing him. From an outsider’s perspective it is a funny and yet, sad scenario. In this both (may) love each other. But they never really love.
That is what happens when two people are sensitive and insecure, which most of us are.
And I think the solution is simple enough, which I do not intend to explain here. One has to find his/her solutions himself/herself.
Lies and ‘hiding things’ are another form of disrespect. If you have to lie to another person and hide things from him, do not fool yourself that you love him/her. ‘I do not trust him/her’ is a silly excuse to offer yourself, in my opinion. YOU REALLY LOVE that person with whom you can share everything without any reservations.
Love is about taking a plunge into a lake, see if you can live under water. Every lake is different, and you cannot really expect to measure from outside if you can live in a lake unless you take a dip in it. Risk is everywhere.
Anyway coming back to my friend, I think that the main reason why he is peeved is that he is not being respected. Any reaction of ours is never related to the current issue. Every ‘reaction’ owes its existence to a series of events of past. That is why we can never tell why exactly we react. The particular situation is only a symbol, a kind of final trigger point. My judgement shall be biased because I do not know the point of view of the girl. But I personally believe that the guy is right in distancing from her. If you are not respected enough somewhere, you have to walk away unless you lose that sense of ‘self’ which makes you who you are. He is only saving himself by doing so. So yes, forever love dies and it dies when you are not respected enough. There is poison for everything.
I do not know if they shall get back together again. It is difficult to judge from my position because I do not know the exact mind of even the guy. But the fact is where there is not mutual respect, there cannot be love. If you do not respect another person, you cannot be faithful to him. The guy and girl should talk it out, because communication can solve most of our problems. ‘But she is not ready even to talk about it.’ He tells me, and I tell him – it clearly means that she does not respect you, which is another way of saying that she does not love you.. Try to forget her.And then he replies: ‘I do not need to force myself to forgive her I guess. As and when I feel too sad, I just have to go through those pics, and my love goes down a notch. I gues one day I will completely rise away from this love.’ I tell him whatever works for you. ‘The saddest thing is she does not even care to make things right’. HE says and I tell him to please stop moping around. Grow up. ‘Forever love’ is KILLED by one of the two parties. ‘KILL’ is the key word here. It is an intentional act. ‘And you know, we do not even have enough number of memories so that I feel like being with her. So it is easier for me to walk away. If we had memories perhaps I would tried harder and even she would have. But then, she created less memories with me only because she wanted to walk away herself. I am confused.’ He says, and continues, ‘I have not been with her enough, not as much as that bastard with whom she is always hanging around. I hate him and may be want to kill him. LOL.’ He gets sentimental and agains begins moping in front of me.
And from the girl’s perspective, if she love/loved him, here is a quote from Mockingbird, which always does the work:

“First of all,” he said, “if you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you’ll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view […] until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”

Love is about making an effort, and if you care to not make an effort, the one will only walk away, not because he may have another person in sight, but because you do not respect him enough.
Girl, if you are concerned about the past memories you two had, and you think that you had various conversations and you really showed him your love, then you must understand an important point – Sometimes, one of our actions changes the situation so much that all other ideas and memories get spoiled. In his own word- ‘You know after I saw them together in those, pics about which she didn’t even care to tell me, I have begun to judge every other memory we two had, however less the are. The conversations we two had are now marred with that guy’s presence. May be she was talking the same things with him. May be she is insecure enough to keep two guys on tab. I know and I can assure you that she really loved me when we were talking, and that is why I was okay. But after this incident, all of those things have gone to trash. Yes she took care of me in my bad time, she was always there, but somehow they are all affected. Present has a way of completely altering the past. So even if I begin thinking that she loved me the past, I always come to the point that perhaps she was doing the same thing with him. May be she was even more intimate in conversations with him. Because the empirical facts present me thus. Now whatever she said, whatever she implied is in question now. One lie has spoiled all the truths. I cannot trust any word of her. I have stopped trusting all the word spoken between us. And if only she tries to make things. If only she can convince me otherwise…I never thought she will do this to me.’
The guy now breaks down, and I empathise with him. The whole lake of memories is now spoiled by one bad fish of a bad incident.