Lost in Post

If I knew then what I know now (16)

2009-06-30T01:52:00.001-07:00

Dear teen-me,

I sit here penning a letter to you. I know you will appreciate this - you always liked receiving letters. And sound advice. And things be told as they were. I think the only other letter you got at this time was from your friend Sangeetha to make up after a fight. And that letter had you in splits. It was funny, sarcastic and also embarassing. But you loved it and will save it for years to come. When I think about it now, it tells me that you had a flair for good sensed humor. Keep it. It will serve you well.

But there are some other things that I wished you'd known.

I could start with your high school years when you took your studies too lightly. The only time I remember you studying was just before the exams. You still managed to score very well. And that left you cocky. But alas, you did not realize that it was not because you were oh-so-smart, but because your class mates were relatively not as good. You did'nt have to wait long to face the truth. College did that for you.

You moved to Chennai from a small town and you met hoardes of new people - girls and boys who were confident, funny and most importantly knew when to study.

The girls seemed well-dressed, posh, spoke about George Michael and Metallica (who are these people, you wondered), never seemed to watch tamil movies and you felt like a fish out of water what with your repoirtaire of fave Bagyaraj comedies and Ilayaraja melodies. The biggest shock to you was that these girls also scored top of the class.

There was your 1st lesson - you can work hard AND also have fun. They are not mutually exclusive as you had confused yourself it to be. And being well dressed does not mean you will be taken lightly.

Now to the boys - oh where do we start? Being from an all-girls convent, this was your 1st real exposure to boys. You met some good ones and a lot of bad ones.

There was this group of moral cops - that seemed to promote a dumbed down verison of who you were. They spouted dialogs like "ponnuna satham podama sirkanum.." a la our super star. You were confused.. were all guys like this, you wondered..You changed ways to fit the popular mould. Dont! Stick to your originality..Life would've been so much more fun just the way you were.

Next and most importantly - your then BF. Though you will never accept, I know you had a slight degree of uneasiness about the relationship. He refused to acknowledge you in public. His moodiness was too much for you to handle. There were lot of sweet moments but lot of bad ones too. And you sushed the voice within and tried to work it through, because this was your first love.. and you though you will never fall in love again. Bollocks to that. Now I tell you, people fall in love over and over. Not every frog you kiss will turn into a prince.

I know you felt like your heart will literally break when it ended.. but hold on sweet heart. For you will go on to a meet and marry a guy, who will be charming, grounded in reality and will egg you on in your endavors. There will be many a days when you think "Thank God I did not end up with the other guy". So always, trust your instincts. Don't be hard on yourself. Giving up on something does not mean you failed at it.

Somethings will never change. You will like Ilayaraja melodies and rasam saadam forever. You will rebel. A lot. You will stay emotional yet guarded. But time will teach you to love yourself. Just the way you are.

Oh btw, the head of the moral cops, who instructed how good girls should behave, will go on to marry a girl with a tatoo on her navel and a mushroom head for her hair. You will have a hearty chuckle about life's ironies. As I told you, hold on to your flair for humor. It will serve you well.

Love,

Yours truly.

If I knew then what I know now (15)

2009-06-28T14:05:00.000-07:00

"Dearest teenager,

This is going to be short and to the point, since your attention span
has already started the shrink. Couple of clarifications which might
just make your life and thinking simpler, hoping that you'd believe
them to be true...
1.) Pimples are bad, yes, besan is not going to help, clearasil wont,
that phoren thing from muscat wont, nothing will, except time. Just
hold on there, another 3 years and its going to clear out on its own.
Its like renting your dream home to a bachelor, out of lack of choice
and urgent need for money. Yeah, there is no need at all, but its a
part of it all...
2.) A golden future and marks are not exactly related. I know mom
tells you so, dad grunts at your average-ness. They wont understand,
dont bother explaining, cos even you dont fully believe in it! But its
just necessary to do your best now, so that there's peace at home and
you are at peace, not regretting anything not done...
3.) Dont you dare let that crush make you feel so bad about anything.
He is not worth it, trust me on this one. Move on, you're precious,
really!
4.) Yes, you do spend far too much time on the phone, like mom says,
but its ok. They are some of your best ever friendships. You're gonna
treasure these memories forever...

Have fun!
Your future!"

If I knew then what I know now (14)

2009-06-28T14:03:00.000-07:00

Dear teenage me,
Did you know life is only as predictable as death? So stop wasting too much of your time in planning for the future and live (and love) each day. All your zits will not last forever; a day will come when you will fail to remember that you once had a face as bumpy as the road. You will have a crush on a boy as frequent as the power cuts (in India), don’t feel bad if ‘the one’ doesn’t ever notice you. There will a ‘special someone’ who will never tire of looking at you. Parents will always be your support system, never be too angry to say sorry, even if you think they are wrong. Your brother might seem to be the most irritating creature now but he will be the one who takes your side when your parents don’t approve of the guy you love. All those slam books that you are collecting now will just be a memory, that’s because there will be something called facebook in the future. Eat all the cake and sweets you want, tomorrow you will be worried about the calories. No one is perfect and the same applies to you, never be afraid of committing mistakes, your life will shape up better once you learn from them. There will be difficult times and you might lose hope but believe me they will pass. People who don’t know you will always judge you; it’s not worth changing anything for them. Your politeness and shyness will always be labelled as being too proud, do not pull yourself further in to the shell. Enjoy the long and lazy summer vacations, later on; a two-week break will require so much planning, scheduling and spending. Do not sulk if your parents don’t buy everything you wish for, every single time, they are just trying to prepare you for the life ahead. Don’t be in a hurry to grow old, you will wish you had stayed young when you get here. Loosen up, enjoy life and always believe that there are better things coming your way.

Preetha
(http://preetha-mythisandthat.blogspot.com/)

If I knew then what I know now (13)

2009-06-25T08:37:00.000-07:00

Dear S,

Where do I start? Do I talk about the hardships or do I talk about the pleasant moments..Maybe, a bit of both. Yes,I know what you are thinking and I will come to the point.

I know you are studying electronics engineering, which you were forced to,by your sisters, but believe me, transistors may not be fun,but are interesting and you will realize when you become a hardware engineer.So, just embrace it as it comes though you may not understand it fully right now. And, don’t think you are not as good as your sisters. You will shine one day, with a graduate degree from one of the best universities in the world,for just being who you are.

When you start working,you will be on cloud nine and might feel the euphoria of being on top of the world, but,it is a vast, wild, rude world out there and you better learn how to deal with it. I know you are very brave but that is not enough to carry you forward. Rule #1:You should learn how to market yourself to grow in the corporate world. Rule #2: If you are in the right place at the right time, just grab the opportunity. It never knocks twice.

Now, coming to life, the only thing sure about life is death. Having almost tasted the feeling of dying twice, with two complicated surgeries under the belt,let me tell you, life is short and so if you love someone, don’t wait for the right moment as it may never come. Keep telling your parents how much you love them. Be content with what you have.I know you are arrogant, but as you will learn later, it never helps. Be polite to people and cherish your friends. They always come to your rescue and keep you going on in life,in spite of all the hardships that you might face.

I know you are waiting for your prince charming to swoop you into his arms and take you to a dream world…..well…here is the news girl, the prince is right in front of you or rather sitting next to you. You just need to recognize him.You might be bewildered to know that you will end up marrying that bespectacled boy sitting in the next desk. Yes, life does take astonishing turns but this one is a keeper. Believe me , as I have spent close to 10 years living with him.

Don’t fret over small things like a bad hair day. There is lot more to life than what you see now. I could go on about life, ethics, beauty,love, content, money….. but, in the end, you have to experience life to understand. It will be mixed with sorrow and joy and lots of love, but one that you will cherish.All I can say is,”You are who you are and so, be just you and stand up for what you feel is right as nobody is perfect in this world.”

S

http://suroba.wordpress.com

If I knew then what I know now (12)

2009-06-22T11:46:00.001-07:00

• I know you are currently facing one of the biggest crises of your life. Your father is in intensive care – and you don’t know what will happen. You travel for the first time alone on public transport; you are scared and you feel terribly alone. But you never think your father will go away forever. Maybe because you are foolish and don’t think too much. Or maybe because you are at heart a happy, positive soul. Looking back, I prefer to think it’s the latter. And my advice to you then (and to me, today) is…hold on to that optimism. Your father will be well… and there will be other crises you will weather together.
• Not too much will change in the intrinsic you. It’s a sad thing and a good thing.
• Deep down, you are and will be timid. Which means you will miss opportunities, and greatness will evade you. You let the currents carry you; never fighting them, never adding your force to them. You take the easy way out most times. If there is one thing you should try and change, it is this.
• Your love of books will last. Your biggest regret will be that you have not taken this love and made something more of it.
• Put pen to paper. Continue writing that diary. Buy more notebooks and fill it with the nonsense of youth. I cannot tell you what precious raw material that can be in the future.
• You will be a dreamer for life. A lot of those dreams will come true. Even if they don’t, they will provide you some very pleasurable moments.
• But once in a while, get out of that day dreaming mind of yours and look around. Be curious. Take notice. Take a different route to the hospital. Be a little late getting back home because you stopped to talk to a stranger. When your mother tells you to smile at your neighbours, this is what she means.
• You have a deep core of selfishness. I cannot see it changing – you will continue to take the people closest to you for granted. Try not to.
• You will know love. And passion. But you can put a little more effort in chasing it – you never know, it could make your life just a bit more interesting.
• You will never be thinner that you are now.
• Friends will disappear. It will take a long time for you to re-discover them. And then you would have lost lifetimes of sharing. So take down those phone numbers and addresses.
• Never do anything out of spite. Or embarrassment. You have already lost one school because of it. Don’t lose more important things.
• You don’t know what you truly want to do in life. But you have a vague idea. 23 years down the line, the idea still will remain vague. So dig deeper. Your 40 year old self will thank you if are able to crystallize it better.
You are beautiful. You are loved. You are lucky. Today is not the best day of your life. There will be better. A few will be worse. But you will never be 17 again. So set out to do something today that you will remember for the rest of your life.

http://www.happysmalltalk.blogspot.com/

If I knew then what I know now (11)

2009-06-22T11:45:00.001-07:00

If I knew then what I know now

Beauty is not eternal. So take care of your physique beginning now.

Your body is what will determine your will to persist. So eat right and exercise.

You don't need to be an expert in anything to enjoy it. So sing, dance, swim, play with carefree abandon.

Never be in doubt of your intellect. You deserve all the success you get.

Define success before you begin your quest for it. Remember, success need not always be defined in monetary terms.

Money comes to those who seek it.

If you are not lucky, may be you can blame destiny. But if you do not work hard, you have only yourself to blame.

Nobody can make you unhappy without your permission.

Your parents are not perfect. Neither are you or anyone else. So let people be.

Speak up. Few people can read your mind.

Do not judge people as good or bad. All of us are somewhere in between.

There is no such thing a selfless sacrifice.

You will be discriminated many a time because you are a girl. Sometimes even by other girls because of your appearance. But remember you do not have to prove anything to anybody but your self.

You have the right to say no even to your parents.

Take charge of your life as early as possible.

If I knew then what I know now (10)

2009-06-22T11:44:00.000-07:00

Dear 17 year old me,

You rock.

Keep walking,

Cheers,

Good old me

If I knew then what I know now (9)

2009-06-19T13:18:00.000-07:00

Dear 17-year old me,

If we saw each other now, you would have no trouble recognizing me. You would be polite, say a hello and then you'd be off. You wouldn't want to spend time catching up with me. Your life is brimming at the moment. There's so much to be done and not enough time in the day to do it all. You sleep for 7 hours every day and pack the rest of your waking moments with a frenetic energy. You want to stretch yourself to the max and still want more. You are shocked by the limitations people put on themselves. You cannot believe how myopic some people can be. Barely able to look beyond their own noses. What's worse, many of them are your peers. Cattle, you charmingly call them. Herd mentality. Incapable of thinking independently. I love and envy your arrogance and self-belief. Untainted by adulthood. But you know what? In a funny way, years from now, it's those very cattle you will be jealous of. For their ability to live a life that meets everybody's expectation - including their own. For being able to remain content with their lot. To not doubt themselves constantly or to chase dreams relentlessly. Some day you will envy those very people you once mocked for being so at peace with themselves. While a much older you, will fight and fight and fight every single notion that has been handed to you. Your older self will still want to explode and go forth with much of the same boundless enthusiasm you now have. And perhaps that's why you can still recognize her all these years later.

So do exactly as you are doing. Enjoy the ride!

If I knew then what I know now (8)

2009-06-19T10:49:00.001-07:00

Dear confused smart ass teenager,

first of all, don't be a smart ass. it won't get you anywhere other than making you lonely and possibly with mental health issues if not identified and handled properly. Sure, you "understand" more than what others think you can. but you do not have to try to make sure they get it. you know what, they will never get it. but you will get labels. loads of them. yes, sex is not a big deal, so you think. You will never know that it WILL be a big deal in your life to the extent that you will regret being such a smart ass in sex matters. you don't get it, do you? to whom are you trying to prove your smartness? to yourself? isn't it pathetic? you will never know that it (sex matter) will become such a monstor in your life. Mary the man your mother suggests. don't go to college. it will be good for you. work in the farm and cook for your children. dream about your children's future, not yours. you will have a peaceful life. trust me. No. you are not going to work for RAW. You will fail miserably in physical fitness. no, the interview won't be for RAW but for normal military. You do not have what it takes to be a spy. trust me on this.

Planimuththu will die young. cut him some slack. don't be too cruel to him. you will never get a chance to amend things with him.

Arulmozhi will die young too. You will wish you had known him little more.

But, hey, enjoy life and do all the mistakes in the world now. if you don't get to be stupid when you are a teen, when are you going to? Life is cruel. it doesn't allow you to be stupid. your mistakes will always be referred back. except your teenage years' mistakes. go ahead and do all mistakes and be stupid. I know that is what you did. just take care that they don't follow you in the later years. you missed this bit, didn't you? Good that you didn't let your teenageness affect your studies. Do you know how much it is going to save you later? Good luck, and you need it.

If I knew then what I know now (7)

2009-06-19T10:47:00.000-07:00

Dear.....

A kiss would have done no harm. The endless fantasizing about his embrace and a warm cuddle, finally disposed off in masturbatory session in bathroom. Darn. This is what life was then.

Everyone spoke about you with pride; of course your parents were the happiest. But, beneath this sober persona, was a person waiting to break open. You sighed at the perfectly pedicured fingers, clean-shaven legs, spaghetti tops and said this was me in future. But, never did that come. You still gape at the stylish ladies. You yearned for perfect curves then and still yearn for them. The only difference is, there were no curves then and too much of them now.

In these years of forced happiness, one sitting in the hip and one toddling, I lost you. Forgot the future you spoke off.

But, out of the blue, mushy feelings again aroused. Seamlessly flowing was the sudden affection for him. Did you meet him then? The flamboyant boy, dripping in arrogance? Did you then dismiss him as shallow. Today, I watch him with envy. He is back in my life, with the same zest. He did not postpone his happiness for security. His happiness was world for him then and now.

We both sit in the same office, sucking the same papers. But after office hours, we don’t suck the same thing. He probably rolls in enjoyment and I suck at the forced orgasm. Life moves on. The future of spaghetti, clean-shaven legs never came. But, somewhere I see a flicker of hope.

In the beach yesterday, he again smirked at my past. The memoirs of my flat body and shy attitude had me fuming. But, something really changed the evening. May be the swooning moon or the past itself. I found myself locked in embrace and kissing him. He has a knack with toes. He really has. In matter of few hours, inhibitions become a thing of past, really. Here, Iam embracing the future I spoke of. It’s not him, it’s just me, venting through him.

It seems as though something postponed for eternity has been completed. Just one advise for you. Life doesn’t wait for others. Neither is someone bothered about you. Just walk your way, happiness will follow….People who matter don’t hurt you. People who hurt you don’t matter.

atob

If I knew then what I know now (6)

2009-06-17T01:44:00.000-07:00

Dear 15 year old me,

Make sure you put in those night hours into those IIT worksheets - there is no saying how much the name IIT would take you in life. BITS is cool, SVCE is good - but IIT is a lot better - and you don't know how many times you would be asked if you were from India and the next question would be whether you are from IIT - missing India games is a big deal, alright - but Tendulkar is never going to win the WC - so don't bother about him and stick to ML Khanna and JD Lee.

With tonnes of experience,

The 24 year old you.

If I knew then what I know now (5)

2009-06-15T13:13:00.001-07:00

Dear Miss,

Don’t you dare waste a minute of your life. Do all that you can think of, dream of and more, for there is life beyond today when you will begin to see limitations.

This time is for you to let go , climb all the mountains , trek all the hills,
read all the books ( rest assured there is no time left for such niceties later in life!!), eat all that your mom cooks (no matter how much you want some good things always end),
relax during Sundays and sleep through for 12 hours, wake up and call your best friend and talk to her for an hour !! Do it and do it all.

So that today when I look back am happy you got the opportunity to enjoy!!

Lakshmi

If I knew then what I know now (4)

2009-06-15T13:13:00.000-07:00

I truly believe I was wiser at your age, and in life's magnanimous luxuries of experiences I have become nothing but a nut who has found more questions than answers all the way.

You wish you were a liberal, and you arent sure if you are already one. You are one of those whiny girls who thinks 'I wish to be liberal, but nobody would let me be so'. I suppose having witnessed your life for the past three decades and more, I can dare say you are probably a liberal-more-than-you-could-possibly-imagine now, so take it easy and be happy happy happy yooooh.

Yeah that guy, in fourth year, the one who was with you, at the quiz competition, in debating society, yes, he is the one who fathers that tiny darling who listens to your (duh?) lullaby and falls asleep gracefully making you feel like a Golden Globe Nominee. How about all your dreams of seeing him live-happily-ever-after with that lean and lanky lovely Shanki, since you thought they were a cool couple and it was absolutely cool to be passing the love letter from him to her and become their life time friends? Well, let me tell ya, life is full of surprises. Even though some surprises has crazy twists and turns it always ends up crazy good when it parks itself for a while in life's moments.

There is no god damn way I am getting married you declare to your friends and you inform them all that you would not attend any of their marriages, because that is like seeing a friend killing herself. Your friends are pissed with you for that, and to their utter shock you marry before them all, and once they are all done, you actually marry again! You rascal! :) Yes living together too, and far far away too, everything in double dose. Who said it was impossible?

Let us look at your obsession with this word "liberal". You think being a girl, coming from Tamil Nadu, you will be enslaved soon, if not to mundane marriage as other women do, but to society, religion, culture as many men seem to be too. You think adult life totally sucks. Being an adult means the opposite of being "liberal" you have concluded. Your own fear of self-defeat to external pressure makes you bitter towards yourself and impending adulthood. But voila, life opens up before you without any limits or boundaries and you could just run around crazily like a dog who just had a bath, you indeed did that for a while happily, also sometimes you were obsessed with your own tail, like in those moments you blogged on sex education, and the rest of craziness of your failures and the ridiculous happiness of them all!

I cant post this letter for you, because you wont believe a single thing I am saying. Yeah, even if a myriad masturbatory dreams have been secretly tackled by you now, we totally suck at "sex" when it comes to real action, and the real orgasm was a mystery for a long long time. Liberal, my ass, says your soul! :)

So is your life, a million ideas of being a liberal, but when life opens up with no limits, no walls, no villain, nothing on your way, then you dont know what to do with yourself anymore. You simply went nuts, experimenting and exploring endlessly. Eventually, what else, became just a happy (fat) nut who is more worried about the size of her pants than the definition of the word liberal!

Madura

If I knew then what I know now (3)

2009-06-15T04:29:00.000-07:00

I would have told you...

That rebelling is a lonely path to take.
That kohl for the eyes and conditioner for the hair is the secret to happiness.
That being happy and alone is infinitely better than being lonely in a crowd.
That dark is dusky and dusky is beautiful.
That failure isn't the end of the world, only a stumbling block to perseverance and success.
That being unhappy isn't going to be an eternal state of being.
That the memories you're making are worth their weight in gold.
That you'll still wonder what you're meant to do, ten years on.
That getting older does not mean getting boring.
That standing up for what you believe in is worth it, in the end.
That nothing is worth fighting with your folks for.
That the mistakes you're making are lessons in life.
That the anger and hatred will soon disappear into oblivion.
That old people who listen to rock music are not uncool.
That staying broke is a perpetual reality in your life.
That you aren't the worst child your parents could have ever had.
That you still haven't met the people who will be your friends for life.
That the people causing you grief aren't really your friends.
That you are not really strange, just quirky.
That your quirks make you unique.
And that you are special. As much as you would like to believe otherwise.

~ Ms.Mephistopheles
www.msmephistopheles.blogspot.com

If I knew then what I know now - 2

2009-06-14T14:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Teenaged Me,

You never regret the things you did, but will always regret things you did not do.

Sunitha

If I knew then what I know now - 1

2009-06-14T14:15:00.000-07:00

Dear Teenaged Me,

What would I really tell my teen self...here goes...

What I know now if I knew back then...

# No matter how old you are, Parents will continue to treat you as if you are a teenager, irrational and impulsive...the only difference is that they will take your spouse's support to endorse it as well! So don't care; be yourself..it doesnt make a difference to any one...anyways!!

# Your elder sis will clear out the cupboard when she leaves home (post wedding), leaving you with one pair of jeans and couple of tops...forever leaving a void in your clothes department as you realise that your skill in buying acoutrements is next to nill!

# Wanting to have babies is not a good enough reason to get married!! Your naive rose tinted perspective is going to land you in a load of trouble...it's a case of act first and regret in leisure!!

# The Ideal man exists, but he is not neccessarily your husband...he is probably some one else's!!

# You will actually be a published writer!...and your words will be read!!!Unthinkable, if you remember that the 7th grade English teacher accused you of plagarism and made you cry in front of the entire class. This is your chance to stick your tongue out at her...So there!!

# Your Brother will grow up! Even go as far as giving you advice on some assorted issues. The amazing thing is, you will take his advice...grudgingly...knowing that inspite of throwing the TV remote at him and trying to crack his skull, he is not cracked...yet...

# You will actually give up reading Romance Novels, much to Mother's happiness and relief. To such an extent that you have developed a healthy dislike for them. I know I state the improbable...but that's reality!

# Face book and Internet will become your life line to friends who you thought are lost forever. Bringing some sanity to this chaotic world that we live in. Burnt bridges can be rebuilt...what a revelation...like the Life-Line option in Crorepati!! You will actually be Tech savvy...savvy that!

# You will find your direction, albeit with great difficulty and the usual back-and-forthing! But...you will find it. Trust me I know you!!

So let me tell you one thing here:
If you thought Teenage is tough, Adulthood is tougher! But the saving grace is that maturity will help you forgive yourself a little better and hopefully faster!

regards
--
sowmya
www.ssstoryteller.blogspot.com

Lost in Post - Mumbai Mail 6

2008-12-03T01:49:00.000-08:00

To a niece

My Dear Niece,

A month or so back, while we were returning from a party you asked me if I was patriotic. Your very tone had warned me that I was in for debate for which I was hardly in a mood, so I had asked you why you asked. You then audaciously told me that at home you, your brother and your cousin ( Did you say your mummy as well? I don't clearly remember…but I hope not!) were one group as against your papa and Mukund Uncle. That they stated that they were patriotic but you didn't think so. You again asked me if I was and I said, yes, I am patriotic. You laughed derisively and said, if I am patriotic what I am doing for India. I tried to explain to you that one doesn't have to do something concrete to show one's patriotic feelings. I said, I still stand in attention whenever I hear the national anthem… and that I take pride in my country's heritage and culture. You refused to be convinced. I said, even though your papa and your Periyappa do not reside in India and work there they are all playing a part in the Indian economy. You with that cocky confidence the life in an affluent country like UAE has instilled in you, mocked at me and your Papa saying that we are pretenders. I, not savouring the unpleasant taste your attitude left in my mouth, begged to differ and closed the conversation.

Last week, we witnessed an unparalleled tragedy in Mumbai. I have been to Mumbai only twice… I do not even remember what landmarks I saw during those trips. The pictures I have in my mind of Mumbai have all been gleaned from Hindi movies and news channels. I have no emotional attachment to the place… Yet, I spent almost 50 of the 60 traumatic hours undergone by the people of Mumbai, glued to the TV screen… my heart bleeding, flinching and beating hard as I watched a city being ravaged by heartless terrorist animals!

I sat there bereft of speech as courageous police officers led from the front and fell pray to terrorists' bullets… I sat there looking for traces of the so called 'netas' among the crowds of common man… I sat there wondering where the 'senas' of MNS and the likes had holed up while 'Indian' (mind you… not merely marathi… but those from all parts of India…) soldiers, commandos and policemen valiantly fought for 60 hours… I sat there in disgust when politicians tried vociferously to campaign while a city burnt… while they slung mud at others and pompously claimed their own tenure to have been better… they sounded as childish, stupid and inane as you, dear niece, did when you asked me if I was patriotic.

I reiterate… I am patriotic. So you asked me what I did to show my patriotism… I stood up in front of the TV screen, bowing my head in silence with the denizens of Mumbai…and your uncle, Periyappa, was right beside me. We grieved in our hearts, we still do, with the kith and kin of the unsuspecting victims of the wild animals let loose on us from neighbouring jungles with the intent to kill.

I join in the public outcry against the likes of R. R. Patil, Vilasrao Deshmukh, V. S. Achuthanandan, Naqvi and even L K Advani, who couldn't find it in him to postpone a campaign in order to participate in an all party meeting summoned at such a time of national crisis… I wish there is accountability for such behaviour… I wish the common man would realize just how much these elected donkeys are making fools of us… Anger surges in my veins… anger that demands some positive action…

This anger, this silence and the tears that rolled down my cheeks as the Last Post sounded from the bugles as a Gajendra Singh or an Unnikrishnan or a Hemant Karkare was laid to rest… that is another shade of my patriotism. It is blazing red in colour, not unlike the flames that erupted from the iconic Taj Hotel… brown like the dried blood on the floors of CST and the rooms of the Trident, Taj and Nariman House… it is dark like the skin and uniform of the brave commandos who faced death defiantly… it is a raw green in its pain… BUT IT IS NOT YELLOW… like the skins of the politicians who are fighting for their chair…

Yes…I am deeply patriotic, dear niece… perhaps you'll understand the feelings once you go back to the land of your birth and LIVE there… This land where we are temporary residents is safe, clean and rich… yet, you are just passing through here. You don't belong there. Any day, you can be asked to leave. When you have to roost at the end of the day, you will have to go back to the country where your parents were born and brought up… where I was born and brought up… Be it any corner of that vast heavenly land, you'll realize, that's home… That realization is the essence of patriotism. In the meantime, I'll wait for you to grow up and mature before engaging in pompous debates for the sake of debating!

Affectionately ,

Periyamma.

Lost in Post - Mumbai Mail 5

2008-12-01T13:10:00.000-08:00

To my adolescent self

Do you remember the day when you were bundled into the back of an army truck in the dead of the night along with your friends to the relative safety of a university campus? Do you remember how the day had broken like any other when you had taken a leisurely stroll around the village, tucked into some delicious rotis and played volleyball with your friends when you heard the first volleys of gunfire? You were young and terribly thrilled to be caught up in all the drama. The enormity of the situation didn't dawn on you until the next morning you saw the fifteen-or-so bodies laid out in a row - like an army of the deceased. Later that day, it was decided that for your safety it'd be best to move the lot of you to a safer location.

In the heated discussions that followed, you made it clear where you stood on these matters - those bloody muslims. On returning home, there was a huge anti-muslim sentiment and being young and prone to taking the opposing stance for the sake of it - you supported muslims vociferously. Where would you send 11% of our population? you would cry. To Saudi Arabia, would come the answer. Oh come on, that's not even an argument! you would shriek, even louder. In the subsequent years, your views have swung wildly depending on who you were talking to or what the latest catastrophe was.

Take any war that is going on around the world at the moment, said an uncle once, and you will find that it involves a Muslim. You agreed with him. You were ignorant of the kind of organised, government-sanctioned terrorism that was happening all over the world at that very moment. Including in your own country.

Some years later you moved countries. And one of the first jobs you did was a voluntary post where you requested that you not be asked to help a Pakistani muslim family. Your request was met with muted horror and someone wondered what the point of volunteering was if one was going to be selective about it. Could they say that they wouldn't like to help a gay person or a Jew? And would it be alright?

You were surprised that it was an issue at all. After all, back in India, Pakistanis were the very devil incarnate. But this incident made you wonder how you could've come to such a conclusion when you had not met a single Pakistani! Over the next few months you were matched with a Pakistani family and to your horror you found that they were just like you! The same concerns, the same fears, the same hopes...heck, they could be Indians! By and by, you met more Pakistani muslims and realised that they were perfectly normal. And secretly, you were even ashamed of your earlier judgements.

Just when it seemed like your mind had opened up just a little bit, along comes another tragedy. The shock and the horror of the carnage shakes you to the bone. And this time, you are back to where you were all those years ago. Bloody muslims, you want to shout. Hate the lot of them! But political correctness and the need to be accepted by your peers keep you from airing your thoughts. Plus, there are now young impressionable, untainted minds around the house. And you don't want to corrupt them with your violent ideas. So instead you say, this is not the time to point fingers at Muslims. Islam means peace and other pathetic cliches that don't ring true even to you.

And while your mind screams bloody revenge, a corner of your head says peace. Because you fear the bloody world that your children might inherit. You have raised them with little idea of religion. Recently, when talking about gods, you asked your firstborn if he knew who you were (expecting him to say Hindus). We are Indians, he replied. Your ensuing hug was so fierce, you almost crushed his little body. It's much more important to be a good human, you and your husband had once decided. And the kids can worship one god - any god they choose. But in the present climate, you are wondering if you should tell him about your faith. The one even you are unsure of.

And so, your views swing again. Perhaps it is just as well that you haven't made up your mind. There are enough fanatics already.

Lost in Post - Mumbai Mail 4

2008-11-29T04:48:00.000-08:00

A letter to the terrorist

Hey buddy,

I hear you have been holed up in Hotel Taj guarding a bunch of unknown foreigners and demanding vague favours for the sake of some XYZA organization......... And I hear all of these are being done under the orders of some big, high command who has struggled all his life for protecting the freedom of your creed/religion/kin from the aggravating, selling people who come to corrupt your values.

I am ask you only this............. I am sure you have some time, while you are waiting for the response from the government and also looking out for the armymen?? Stop for a moment and think of all the decisions you have done till now. At every moment of these decisions are you sure you did your best to understand the consequences of these decisions..??? You say your family was tortured.. your sister was raped.. your brother killed.. and so you took this decision.. you say you took up arms to protect the innocent others..... I ask you this...Try and picture the face of the neighbours you took the gun to protect?? Any idea where they are and what they are doing ?? How safe are they??

Did you taking a gun and becoming a terrorist help them?? You say you doing this now will help them because your organization will be there to protect them? this will keep your leader in his quest to establish freedom for your kin ....How old did you say you are?? Say 'N'.

Ask yourself this how many people have you protected in so many 'N' years of noble fighting life other than yours?? How many have you killed??Ah but you say something has to be done... they can't get away with all the evil they are doing?? I am completely with you on that matter, they may have hurt you, But dude what have you done to them?? or to yourself?? Has what you have done improved your condition as you have seen till now?

Ah you say that the system has failed...... The system has to protect you and your community but has sold out to those enemies........... May i remind you the system is just a whole big bunch of rules decided and written down by a set of representatives who thought they were doing their best........ Do you think you are doing your best?? If you believe in it honestly, then go on with your quest......... But if not you know what are your options!!!! Remember Jonah Jameson taught to Peter parker?You always have a choice.............
I cannot understand the complete facts of your situation however i can......... I can only try....and hope my best is good enough....... But
All I ask is do the best you can.........
Always there to listen..

Anand J

What sane person could live in this world and not be crazy? -Ursula K. Le Guin

The man who is really serious,with the urge to find out what truth is,has no style at all. He lives only in what is.
~Bruce Lee

I am trying If there is no way, I will make one.
Aang

Lost in Post - Mumbai Mail 3

2008-11-28T13:30:00.001-08:00

The glee on your face as you went on your murderous rampages is chilling. You look no different than any other young man I'd have met on my daily commute to work. Early-20s, closely cropped hair, combat trousers, t-shirt...but there the difference stops. It's not a satchel on your back. But your weapon of choice - a machine gun. One you used to take away innocent lives. How could you bring yourself to murder those who've done you no wrong? Men, women even children! What is your motivation? Is it the promise of 72 virgins in heaven that turned you into a cold-blooded killing machine? Do you think any god - even your most benevolent one - will ever forgive for the lives you have wrecked? If you are still alive, I wish you a very slow painful death. You deserve no less, you pathetic piece of shit

Lost in Post - Mumbai Mail 2

2008-11-28T12:43:00.000-08:00

Dear Mumbai,
Gosh! How I hated you when I was there. Your smells, your crowds, your sweaty armpits...I would moan and bemoan the cesspool that the city seemed to my alien eyes. A throbbing mass of humanity. Packed tight in its train compartments and spilling out onto the Arabian sea. I couldn't bear to live there. But after moving out, in a strange way, I've come to miss you. Like the woman who turned insomniac after her snoring husband's death, I miss your madness, your mayhem. And as I watched you being systematically attacked, I cried for you. They say you have bounced back with remarkable resilience each time this has happened in the past. But how will you fare now? The mindless violence of the past few days have been intolerable to watch. Its scars may take a long time to heal. But I hope the people that make you the wondrous city that you are can rise again. Because if you give in and succumb to your wounds, the terrorists would have won. And that's just not what Mumbai does, kya?
Former-mumbaikar.

Lost in Post - Mumbai Mail

2008-11-28T12:28:00.001-08:00

Dear Mr Karkare,

You were among the first casualties of the terror attacks on Mumbai. You lead from the front. You died like a soldier. Did you think that this could be the last time you were donning your bomb jacket when you slipped into it on Wednesday night? Did you ever imagine that one day you might die in the line of fire when you took up your job as the chief of anti-terrorist squad? Would you have chosen to go any other way?

Mr. Karkare, I have a little boy. And I cannot imagine him doing what you are doing. I would rather he grew up to be a boring accountant than a daredevil policeman like you. I simply cannot bear the thought of all the risks he would come under if he ever chose your line of work. But it's people like you who make it possible for children like mine to have a future.

I didn't do this when you were alive. It's too late now. Mr. Karkare, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You died so we may live.

RIP, officer.

Love,

Citizen

Mother's Day 5

2008-03-02T01:55:00.002-08:00

The sad thing is, when your second daughter was born, I believe you turned to your husband and asked him if he was disappointed. This, despite knowing that the male chromosome couldn't have come from you. Your moment of joy at having given birth to a perfect, healthy baby blighted by the knowledge that she too, like her sister before her, is a girl. And it wouldn't have been made any easier by the 'loved ones' around you commiserating and consoling you. The progressive ones among them reassuring you with empty platitudes about a girl being equal to a boy. While desperately trying to hide the disappointment in their voices. How frustrating it must've been for you! But you handled it very great dignity and grace.

The children are grown now and what gorgeous girls they are! Beautiful, bright and spirited. I hope your initial regret at not having borne a son to further your husband's family name has since been replaced with the joy of watching your children grow. Kids are a remarkable gift. And I hope you now realise that you've been blessed. Twice over.

Mother's Day 4

2008-03-02T01:55:00.001-08:00

Everyone else seems to know what kind of a mother I will be. 'Strict' 'Emotional' 'Impatient' 'Overindulgent' 'Lost' 'Calm' are a few of the labels now affixed to the swollen belly in which you lie and occasionally kick about in. How do they know? How are they so sure of this, when I suspect I have not even fully grasped or come to terms with what it will mean to have you?

Have you already decided what you will be like? Have you made up your mind about when you will sleep, what you will eat and on which side of the Israel-Palestine conflict your sympathies lies? I hope not. Even I haven't made up my mind about these things, though it would be nice if you got on board with my eight hours of sleep plan. If you haven't decided what you'll be like, why must I? And why do others feel the need to decide for me?

I have no idea how things will turn out. Hopefully, we will surprise each other (in good ways). Hopefully, I will understand if you don't like broccoli and not take it as a slight against my mothering abilities. Hopefully, you will not pee in my $500 leather bag.

Mother's Day 3

2008-03-02T01:53:00.000-08:00

Look at you! Six years ago who’d have thought of you like this. A mother of not one but two children. Over the years, you seem to have come into your own as a mother. No, it has not been easy. Far, far from it. This motherhood thing is complicated. Full of guilt and full of love. Constantly reminding you of your own mortality. And forever leaving you worried – about everything from the environment to rising levels of crime. What kind of a world will they inherit?

Will they ever get to see the snow-capped mountains of Kilimanjaro like you once did? Or will it have melted by the time they become young people? Should you be spending less on plastic gifts and more on second-hand books because books can teach them more and plastic can take a thousand years to degrade? Not to mention the landfills they create. Should you limit the time they spend in front of tv? Should you return to working full-time? But did you not read the findings from a recent research that revealed that under-5s who spend their days at a crèche have impaired development? But what about the other study that was conducted the other day about how 90% mothers who quit their careers to take care of children suffer from a debilitating lack of self-esteem? See how inherently twisted motherhood is? Pulling you in opposing directions. Twisting and tossing and kneading you about as if you were chapati atta. But look at the kids now. Sitting wide-eyed in front of some rubbish gun-toting cartoon character on tv which you know they shouldn’t be watching. Would you have it any other way? Hmm?

Mother's Day 2

2008-03-02T01:51:00.000-08:00

MS

Have you ever sat at home all day?
Day after day?
Week after week?
Seeing only those 3 people and not anyone else?

Have you ever felt the emptiness on not being who you used to be?
Like being the star of every party?
The most popular girl in town?
The teacher everyone loved?
The one who threw the grandest parties?
The one who made dolls and dresses for little girls?

Have you ever felt completely dependent on another?
Not being able to do things on your on?
Things you could do earlier?
Like drive?
Play sports?
Walk?

Have you ever known that this is how its going to be?
If not worse?
That there is no getting better?

Have you ever seen your life slip away when you've just been given the best gift ever?
Have you tried pushing away someone you love more than life itself because you think you can't take care of her?

Have you ever smiled through it all?
And still thanked God for the life he has given you?
Have you ever said 'I'm better than you' when you are at your worst?

Have you ever fought with all your might against all odds?
'Coz you love life the way it is?

Have you ever been Amma?

-Ms.Mephistopheles

Mother's Day 1

2008-03-02T01:49:00.000-08:00

Dear Mom,

You are my strength
You are my beauty
You are my love.

You had great dreams for me, yet
You let me chase my dreams for free.

You laugh our laughs
You shed our tears.
You with me, there are no fears.

You are the heartbeat of mine
You are a goddess, the whole world, dare not decline.

You hold my hands just for a while, But
You hold my heart all the while.

Thanks for being YOU, Mom!!!

--
Best-o!
Shiv

My dear - 49

2007-06-11T13:04:00.000-07:00

To her

I don't know why I was thinking about you today. Your birthday is only in November. And that day is not until August. It must be because of the song I was listening to. Not the one with your name. But the one that we used to sing together. The one that you would sing hopelessly off-key. The one I teased you so badly about. And that was not the only thing I used to tease you about. The way you used to stutter mildly before any sentence. The way you scratched your head often. The way your hair curled into tight rings. Just about everything was a reason to taunt.

How could I forget that day when we went to the beach and I demanded that you return the dress you were wearing because it belonged to me? Yes, right then and there. I wanted my dress back. And yet, you kept your head about you. You just ignored me like you always did. And that infuriated me even more. I tugged and pulled at the dress. You continued to ignore me. How I tortured you! That I was only 8 or 9 years old then was no excuse. Looking back I'm shocked at how my behaviour was allowed to go on.

Luckily, you didn't have to suffer me for too long. And after a couple of years with us, you went back to living with your parents, my aunt and uncle, in that remote northern town. And we only met during holidays. Until that year, when we were both 16 years old. I still remember being woken up in the middle of the night and being asked to pray. You had contracted meningitis and were in a critical condition in the hospital. And collective prayers alone could save you. Sadly that was not enough and you succumbed to the disease. After that, whenever I saw your mother, I was weighed down with inexplicable guilt. She would see me and burst into tears. You too would have been going to college. You too would have started working. And like my mother, she too would have been looking out for a suitable groom for her daughter. I was a constant reminder of the life that her daughter could no longer live.

But the real reason I'm writing to you is because I'm a mother now and I fear for my child. You know what they say about the sins of the parents coming back to haunt their kids. And I often worry that there's a bully waiting to get my son.

I know I didn't say it when it mattered. But I'm saying it now. I'm sorry for what I did. I really am.

My Dear - 48

2007-06-04T12:19:00.000-07:00

To the one I'm jealous of

I cannot remember when I came across your blog first. But I do remember that I was instantly captivated. The photographs were stunning and the recipes really delicious. You had me hooked. I was in awe and to be honest, a tiny bit jealous. You see, for the past eight years or so, for as long as I’ve been married, I’ve struggled with cooking. One day, I was the one being fed. And the next, I was the one doing the feeding. And the transition happened so fast that I barely had time to come to terms with it. What was worse, I did not even have a choice about it. No, that’s not entirely true. I didn’t allow myself the luxury of choice. I didn’t think I could employ a cook or do a take away or allow the husband to take over. That would not be the right thing to do. After all, cooking’s a wife’s job. To forsake it or to hand it over to someone else would tantamount to abandoning my family. And tell me, what good wife would do that?

And so, for the past eight-something years, I have struggled at every single meal time. The conflict between my heart and head would reach such dizzying levels that it have caused many a culinary warfare in the household. I would look at women like you and your legions of admiring fans (almost entirely women, why?), your impeccable kitchens, your elaborately pain-staking recipes (so much soaking, peeling, grinding, stuffing), your boundless enthusiasm for things like onion seeds and wonder what was wrong with me that I don’t enjoy it as much? You know, when I read your blog, I hear my mother-in-law’s voice. I hear her saying, “What have you been feeding my son? He’s lost so much weight”, “Bread is for the invalid and the toothless”, “So, what did you make for Srirama Navami?”, “In our house, we make kuzhippaniyaram for varalakshmi nonbu”, “No wonder the grandchildren are so thin. That’s what happens when they eat cereals for breakfast”.

Please don’t get me wrong. What you are doing is fabulous. You’re getting people excited about food and that’s great. But you reinforce the guilt that is always lurking, just below the surface. I feel inadequate when I read your recipes. Like the Big God forgot to put in a crucial part while creating me. And now there’s a big idli-shaped hole in my soul (btw, I have never made that wretched thing in all these years!)

Again, please don’t mistake me. Your food is lovely and my secret wish is to be invited to a dinner party at your house someday (though I think I may’ve ruined whatever slim chances I had, in the last 5 minutes). But I really wish I could take a short-cut and jump straight to the end-results. May be I should try a take away for dinner tonight.

My Dear - 47

2007-01-03T04:27:00.000-08:00

A letter that was lost mid-air

Dear Stranger on the flight,
Just so that you know..
I hate long flights. Especially the ones where I have to sit next to desperate,balding single men, who are just waiting to try their luck with the next eligible woman. I am single, but no,am not looking. Shaadi.com or the Classifieds matrimonials should take care of that.So count me out.

And, I hate small talk or personal questions.I'd rather watch that masala movie on that tiny screen than entertain someone with the story of my growing-up years.If you have anything to share,you are more than welcome to do it. But just remember, the headphones are glued to my ears.

And in case, you need to run to the loo every half hour, please be generous enough to swap that window seat with me. I have a reasonably strong bladder, and a window seat should suit me fine.

Food is not an issue with me.Because I usually peck at it.So please don't give me any looks of sympathy.I am NOT anorexic. But I do like practising random acts of kindess and love, and so don't be surprised to receive a nice smile once in a while.It's justout of courtesy.Besides, I read that it takes a lot more muscles to frown.
Take care and enjoy your flight.
Sincerely,
The (highly anti-social) girl sitting next to you

who blogs at : http://thesonglady.wordpress.com/

My Dear - 46

2007-01-03T04:25:00.000-08:00

To him

To him,
staying away from writing is my gift to you,
not roses nor chocolate nor books I know you'd want to read, because I want to read them too
You lived aloof, maintaining always your disdain of all things emotional.
even though your Bertrand said,
"Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness"
Your witty retorts, come back lines and sarcasm did well to mask all pain
Alone I tried to be let in, and stayed with all you threw at me
Alone I stayed a stranger, till the familiar bred angst and anger and anguish
as I willed myself away
Now you're gone, and nobody says a word to me about you
nor do I hear whispers or hints about your life.
only your words remain
I choose to keep them
like that box in the attic that you've not quite decided
whether it should stay or be thrown away
Oh, who would have believed that I,
(and you should know)
that I would have lost everything welcomed anything and forgotten all,
if only you had opened the door and let me in.

What have you created?
or is it I?
fated to be knocking shadowed by her past?
to be waiting for a man so strong with tender tongue and iron will,
decisive, opinionated
who makes me ache for him
is it I?
who only yesterday it seems, chatted with another,
hiding his pain and the quivers of his heart from the only one who'd never discount it.
did I give up on you? did your darkness win?
and will it win again if I choose to knock no more?
-c

My Dear - 45

2006-11-03T01:08:00.000-08:00

To dearest friend

B,

Come back soon... The intermittent long breaks that you have been taking nowadays to run home, leave me with a big void in my life. My days are always fun-filled with you around - a friend to laugh with, talk anything to without having to think of the consequences- literally any senseless thing, to fight with (I adore your punch-bag tummy!), to share my sentiments, egos, to cry with .. The occasional fights that we have always make you more and more lovable to me. The childhood that you gave me back at this age is incredible. I still dont know what I am to you - the distinct names that you call me from time to time make me realise that I am enjoying different flavours of a great friendship; but one thing for sure, you never would admit I am even 10% girlish. hhmm.. We have known each other for just over a year and a half, still you are that closest friend I missed to study with in school. How I wish I had you in my life since a good 10 years before. Before I could fully enjoy this best-of-its-kind friendship, it is time for us to part soon. One year hence, I dont even know where I will be, where you will be, what your profile is, who I will be with, what I am doing, when we would meet next... Remebering and loving the deal that we have with each other - 10 years down the lane, we would find each other and stay together as friends forever, IF both of us are still single...

love u always,
ur 'mamma'

My Dear - 44

2006-08-24T08:24:00.000-07:00

To Friend

Do you remember the day when you and I planted some seeds in a little flower pot? I kept checking every 5 minutes to see if they had sprouted. And you said, 'not yet. I'll tell you when they are ready'. I was amazed at your ability to predict plant growth. I looked at you with renewed awe. You told me all about the mysteries of human life. You even told me how babies are made.

Do you remember that time when you and I were fascinated with death? We saw people wailing at my grandfather's dead body and we promised that we would do the same when the other person died. And we fought over who would die first. Do you still recall those days and tell your children about it? When did it all stop?

I ran into you the other day at a wedding. You did not recognise me. I had to introduce myself and you eyes widened in surprise. Have I really changed that much? We stood about awkwardly not knowing where to begin. I wanted to tell you all about my life now. And find out all about yours. But instead I heard myself telling you how hot it was and how nice it was to meet you again. We exchanged numbers and promised to stay in touch. I live in a different country now and I understand your circumstances are some what difficult. I don't expect to hear from you. But I wish I had told you that I now know how babies are made. And that is not by placing an aubergine under the armpit.

My Dear - 43

2006-08-23T08:59:00.000-07:00

To Ammani

Dear Ammani,

As a regular reader, I welcomed your new initiative, seeing it first as a creative outlet, and only then as a channel for people to vent their sorrow, anger and hurt. And many letters were in line with my expectations- amusing and wry, imaginative and interesting. But every now and then nestled in all the "letter to fitness instructor" and "letter to the boss" mirth, there is a letter that speaks of a strained relationship, a letter that lets out years of bottled up sadness. And when I read those outpourings, where the hurt seek comfort in pouring out their woes in the comfortable yet, for want of a better word, cowardly shroud of anonymity to absolute strangers, I think maybe this is not right. Are they who face these demons, taking an easy way out rather than face their troubles, confront those who cause them so much anguish, and attempt to work things out? Wouldn't the words that can make strangers sympathise and empathise with them,be of better use in an open hearted dialogue with the once-familiar-now-far-removed ones?In offering them this window of escape, are you not shutting the door on a final attempt, however futile it may seem,at healing their relationships? Rhetorical as these questions may seem, I believe, the answers lie with you….

Dreamer

My Dear - 42

2006-08-23T08:54:00.000-07:00

To Friend

My Dear Friend,

We both know best how we maintain this facade. Sordid
attempts at conversation, ill-at-ease gaps of silence,
when both of us search for some topic to talk on. It
wasnt always this way. A smile still crosses my face
when people mistake us for brothers or call me by your
name!!

It wasn't this way till I overlooked your sarcasm,
however caustic it was. It wasn't this way till I
looked beyond words to the 'good' I saw in you, till I
looked at the qualities I admired. It wasn't like this
too, till I left my self respect in a closet for
friendship. It wasn't this way till I tried to patch
up quarrels and say 'sorry' even when I knew it was no
fault of mine. It wasn't this way too till I learnt
from past experiences and tried to avoid anything that
you or your family did not like!!! It wasn't this way
till I realised what you secretly thought of me...
Thank God for the mistakes he lets us commit...

I was wrong in feeling that i could carry it on
forever... I cannot. Tis not because the friendship is
no longer valuable to me ever since I found a life
companion, but that I have some-one else's self
respect to worry about. I wish you could recognise the
same as I did when you walked the same path!!

Though it wrenches my heart
I cannot live this facade
The dwindling association
Is an intentional decision
To reduce the pain
That numbs my brain...

I hope you understand.. but then its too late for such
hope and to late for understanding!!!

Best Wishes .. Anyways !!

My Dear - 40

2006-08-23T08:51:00.001-07:00

To Finance

My Dear Fiancé,

I hope I will remember to give you this letter when you are still my
fiancé. I know that in my selfishness to marry the adorable you I
would conveniently forget to tell you this important piece of my life
and that is why I am making this letter as public as possible by
sending it to Ammani.

When I was a kid, I used to be a brat. I was a brat in the worst sense
that is comparable to Calvin (sans Hobbes). I used to beat up my elder
sister (who I love now), break most of the fragile things (especially
the ones marked unbreakable), throw stones at the family elders, had
two life threatening accidents and never studied an alphabet till I
was six years old. But the whole issue is not about me.

My mom, who bore the brunt of my almost violent childhood lost 20% of
her body mass. My maternal grandmother, unable to see her daughter
reduce to want, cursed me. She cursed me with a brat exactly like what
I was. Even though things changed after I was a little older, my
grandmother told me that the curse was real and was afraid that it
might become true. I love my mom and my grandma but I am still cursed.

I hope you realize the seriousness of the situation. I hope you love
me enough to still marry me. I hope we only have daughters.

head over heels in love with you,

-Pratap

My Dear - 41

2006-08-23T08:51:00.000-07:00

To Utopia

to my dear utopia

ive never known what you were, and yet, now i know, ive lost you..forever. i stopped believing in hazy mists, i grew up.

au revoir

My Dear - 39

2006-08-18T09:13:00.000-07:00

To Nilu

Dear Nilu,

I don't want to embarrass you. But had I found you when I was 12 years old, I might have had better chances at emotional survival. I may not have been this bitter. Or this fragile.

Love
TheOtherNilu

My Dear - 38

2006-08-18T09:12:00.000-07:00

To S

Dear S,

What is it exactly that we accomplished in those hours in Madras? I don't have any memories from that day. I haven't forgotten any of that day, not enough to make a memory of it. I was heartbroken. That Punjabi Boy had broken my heart. You were dazzled by V, sitting in that elusive United States. Like eels, they were slipping out of hands and leaping back when they felt like.

At night over that miserable messenger, you had typed out (hiding from your boss) lyrics of a Telugu lullaby. That summer I spent in the hills, I called you instead of called Punjabi Boy.

When I talk of you to others, I am told my eyes fill with something. I hop onto your blog, drag every word onto my soul, and sometimes see glimpses of me. When V left you, and you had that inevitable series of "love failures", I felt guilty for being in a relationship that made me happy. While I wanted you to stop loving me, (as I urged myself to stop loving you), I didn't want you to forget me. It was selfish of me. But it was the only way I could preserve a part of me that had grown old beyond recognition. I sung Gulzar's songs to you at the Marina. And you had sent me little tears in emails for months after.

With all my just-ending teenage angst, six years later, I now know that I loved you. But more than anything else, I am grateful for all the kindness you had in your heart for a girl of 19 years. Love is relatively easier than kindness.

Love

K

My Dear - 36

2006-08-17T08:35:00.000-07:00

To Ma

Ma,
You never existed for me. As far as I was concerned my mother was Poonam.
Poonam and I were the only people inside my circle, which i had just learnt
to draw. Everything else was out. Not only me, even my friends and little
cousins thought so. I would run to her if I was hungry, had a bruise to be
fussed over or had to get my unruly hair to behave. I would see you silently
going through the chores of life with strange silence. I remember crying
myself hoarse as a toddler who had just learnt to walk but not enough to get
down the flight of stairs, probably hungry or just hungry for attention. The
steps divided my world from yours.
And you went on sweeping the court yard as if I did not exist. To me you
were someone living in our house who was just there. The why and the
wherefores did no trouble me.
I found your silence strange. You would never show emotions, no smiles, no
anger, no pain, nothing. You would not chatter away with other women. Always
the same pale expression busy with household work. I was four years old and
I hated Holi for some weird reason. You had tucked me in your arms with my
body resting on your waist. Someone came and colored your face a dirty blue.
I just bit you on your neck, probably showing my anger for making me a part
of this bizzare ongoing. I waited to be scolded, thrown down or shouted at.
You tugged me closer and execused yourself from the scene citing my
discomfort as the reason. This cleared one doubt in my mind. I did exist for
you and you cared about me.

The 1984 riots were too complex for my mind to comprehend. The schools were
closed. I had all the time in the world to think who you were. I would lock
myself and imagine you to be the house maid or may be a wicked queen who
wanted to kill the good prince. One day I found your sindoordaani. May be
this is the wicked magical powder that made you so cold. I opened it and
wondered what this red powder was that only you religiously adorned. I don’t
know how I spilled it all over me. The mirror showed an ugly red incarnation
of me and I was scared. You just walked in asked me to leave and cleaned up
with the same silence I have begun to hate so much. I wanted you to say
something, anything for that matter. I learnt another thing, it was not the
red powder but something else.

It took me another fifteen years to understand to what it was. That you had
just started to "live" with your husband, my father, after twenty years of
your married life. Twenty years of separation and ill treatment at your in
laws place had made you numb. It aint easy to be giving birth to one girl
after another, and yet another. You were fighting chronic depression and a
host of other diseases related to stress, emotional trauma and malnutrition.
To me you were just a hypochondriac or plain lazy, responsible for passing
to me my maddening migraine in the name of heredity.

I gave up my efforts to attract your attention and somewhere down the line
accepted the fact that you were my mother and Poonam, my eldest sister.
Though it did not change anything, but it certainly made my repulsion and
hatred for you more strong. What kind of a mother is she? Never calls me pet
names, never cuddles me, does not even cook fancy things for me. What a
contrast she was to other mothers I knew. I envied my friends. I ignored
you. I did not need your attention or approval, I resolved. I would be
embarassed if my friends came home. You would be in a crumpled saree, hair
in disarray, going about your work. A far cry from my friends' mothers who
would be impecabbly dressed, with lipstick, manicured hands and offer us
fizzy drinks and muffins!

You would never serve anything. All you had to offer was your sweetmeat,
which i secretly liked, but could not bring myself to say so. How could I
serve it?
I hated you for not being fluent in English. You could not come to my PTAs.
How many times did I join my dad in poking fun at your sad english. We would
laugh at your daily pooja and weekly vrats, even your home remedies were
scorned. I hated your penny pinching. Now my dad was also inside my circle.
It took another twenty years for me to realize how you managed a family of
five on a small govt. salary my dad earned. I failed to see only you could
have seen me through my expensive schooling which was almost 50% of what dad
earned. Only you could have put Gangajal in my dying pet’s mouth and only
you could have accommodated the faceless laborer couple in our backyard when
they lost everything to fire.

I had found a companion in dad who I guess was also embarassed by you. But
you still did not react. You snatched my friend, my dad also one day. The
grinding stone fell on your feet and you could not get up. I stood there
amused, laughing my head off. My dad snapped at me. That day I was convinced
you were a witch who had won over my dad.

Sometimes, I saw the glimpses of the mother in you. How you dreid my tears
and taught me division when I had scored a measly 3 on 20 in Maths. I was in
class third. I never failed a single test after that. Still it was not
enough for me to forgive you.
I was thirteen and more irritated by you now when you considered my
menstrual cramps as food poisoning and offered me the obnoxious Pudin Hara.
I don't know why I conviniently forgot that you did the laundry when I had
stained my bed for the first time, without even grumbling. Or how you rushed
out to get me a pack of STs, when I had ran out of them and was writhing in
pain. “That’s not the brand I use,” is all I had said. Too embarrassed to
let you help me. To me you were no one. I would swing in and out of the
house without bothering to inform you. Threw food and tantrums much more
than a normal teenager. But you never reacted.
How I hated you for not taking a stand, so many times. To my adolescent mind
conditioning, patriarchy and subjugation were alien words. You always cried
in silence.

How much venom I had when you had refused me to go to Delhi and study on my
own. Who were you to tell me? You had no place in my life. Soon my teenaged
arrogance and shallowness, gave way to logic and I began to comprehend who
you were and why. But again you were never first on my priority. First
friends, then boyfriends, then job. They kept playing musical chair with my
priorities. My circle of life grew and shrunk but it never accomodated you.
You never figured. I was busy now. You calmly accepted your daughter's bad
marriage, her death. You even made way for another widowed daughter and
calmly went ahead to raise their two children each. You found it difficult
to differentiate between my friends and boyfriends. But never asked. You
calmly accepted my choice of my life partner with enthusiasm and never spoke
a word about him after I stopped mentioning him.
I did not hate you now but I never stopped to give you what you deserved.
Not even when I returned home drunk one night and you were up waiting to
have food with me. Not even then when you found a cigarette in my bed.
Never, ever.

Now you have once again become the pale ghost and frail copy of what you
were when I was a little child. Weak, limp, hairless and stone like. You
have closed your circle and I dont find myself inside it.

Please speak to me. I know chemo drains you. I know you are in pain but ma,
please spare a look. I travel miles to see you. But you look through me. I
cant come back now, ma.

How could you do this to me. Why did you have to turn yourself in a
blackwhite picture? Oh I hate that garish maala on that picture. Ma, please
say something, anything...
*******************************************************************************
Failed to edit it to 300 words... catharsis is a long process i guess.

My Dear - 35

2006-08-17T08:33:00.000-07:00

To HATE MALE

Dear, naah Hateful S,

I HATE YOU!! I hate you more than I have or ever will hate anyone in my life. You not only broke my heart, you wrenched it out of my body and stamped it over and over again under your foot. You were the nicest, kindest, most hard-working person I knew and probably still are, you never raised your voice or hand on me, but you still managed to hurt me more than cruel words or an abusive partner could have.

You said you couldn't bear to see me cry so you stopped calling or emailing. If only you knew that it only made me cry more. But thanks to you, I know that I will never cry like that again, the worst of my life is over, nothing can ever hurt me like you did, I can never ever feel that low again. I haven't shed a tear since that day.

I am now married to a wonderful guy who loves me and takes care of me and I love him too. My days are filled with routine, happiness and contentment. I have a great job and lots of friends. And I Hate You because the mention of your name still wrenches my heart and erases all thought but you from my mind and I can't help but hate you for all that you did and didn't do. I wish you had been rude or abusive or unfaithful, so I could find a reason why we didn't end up together. I wish I had the strength of character to live alone for the rest of my life with only memories of you. Time and Distance heals? BAAH, it has only made it worse...It's been 5 years and 5000 miles and I STILL HATE YOU!!!

-A

My Dear - 34

2006-08-17T08:32:00.000-07:00

To you

My Dear,

We've definitely got someplace in life together, considering we're contemplating marriage and all. All couples, all over the world have their share of disagreements and I daresay we have more than a generous share of ours. But, we still move on hand-in-hand, together.

In moments of volcanic anger, you've asked me what keeps us together...more than once.

My reply is this - it's love. Our love isn't about roses and outings and gifts. We love enough to know each other's shortcomings and try and fill in those gaps, so that as a whole, we're an almost perfect being, in spite of being imperfect individuals.

I know things get tough. But please be patient in such times. Nothing is worth letting go of what we have. I hope you feel the same.

Love...actually :)

My Dear - 33

2006-08-17T08:31:00.001-07:00

To Me

Dear Thirty Year Old Me,

Are you happy?
Where do you live?
What do you do for a living?
Are you in love?
Have you had your heart broken?
Did you ever finish War and Peace?
Did you get your book published?
Have you started your company? Your school? How does that feel?
Have you travelled the world?
Are you still unique?
Do you lead a stereotypical life?
Are you jaded?
Do you still talk to your little sister everyday? Do you still share that magical telepathic relationship with her?
Do you still talk to Mummy and Daddy everyday?
How is Caesar?
Are you still friends with Laasya?
Did you meet the perfect person?
Do you like your body now?
How does your hair look?
Do you still have acne?
Have you managed to be attracted to somebody sensible?
Do you like your toes?
Are you fluent in German?
Can you speak Russian?
Did you learn to play the piano? Tap dance?
Can you swim better now?
Do you still like eating rice?
Do you still laugh out loud every time you read 'Rosy is my Relative'?
Do you still think Fitzwilliam Darcy is perfect?
Has there been a better movie than The Hours?
Are you in touch with all the friends you could not imagine life without at 22? Where are they now, and what do they do?
Have you lived in a house with stairs in it?
Do you have a pottery room?
Did you figure out why you're here?
Are you saving the planet?
Can you cook?

lots of love,
Twenty Two year old Me

My Dear - 32

2006-08-17T08:31:00.000-07:00

To Appu

Dear Appu,

Was it worth it?
You lied with the stories you cooked,
You mocked, you cheated.
My friendlessness disgusted you,
You never failed to mention how alone I was,
Where were yours when you felt betrayed?
"I love you! I love you!" you would scream, when needing a night of passion,
While I made love to you, you lusted for another man,
My genuine love for you was my only concession.
One day, you lost respect, you stopped talking,
All I asked was to know why, a reason, any reason.
I drowned in my work,
You'd go around telling everyone how I was a jerk.
I would cry, be left alone, only to see your wrath at my tears,
You had no compassion, no empathy, just like the rest of our peers.
You moved down looking for love,
You tried, you made more cry, you wasted your prime years.
The first three months, we should've stayed away babe,
You have no idea, what good friends we would've made.

Yours always,
NK

My Dear - 31

2006-08-17T08:30:00.000-07:00

To Akka

Dear Akka (a recalcitrant blogger),

This is my nth comment on your blog. You have still not published any of the n-1 comments. You are making me more 'inquisitive' by the day, by not publishing anybody's comments, let alone mine. It is not even the non-publishing that matters, it is the absence of any reply (your indifference) that breaks my heart. I live by others' comments, appreciations, criticisms and feedback. I am choking for breath, will you ever reply?

The Visitor

My Dear - 30

2006-08-17T08:29:00.000-07:00

To S

Dear S,

I have asked myself this question for three years and played this in my head a million times but I still cannot understand why you did what you did to me. Now my heart is filled with so much hatred that I cannot even love my husband. Today I still wonder what it would have been like had you not broken my heart. I still dream on the life we would have had.

Today I sit here with the biggest compromise of my life; my marriage and I wonder why one of us had to compromise, whereas you live the life you always wanted. I wonder are you a better person than me because that’s what I have been made to believe that good things happen to good people or is my belief wrong? I am jealous of you, I wish I had your life but then I left it all for you… so that you and I could be together and today I have lost everything.

But you know all this, you’ve known for a long time you’ve just not bothered to do anything about it , but that’s ok. I just wanted to tell you that I am fine, We all learn through our mistakes and I have learnt too, I have learnt to be selfish as only selfish people survive, I have learnt that promises do not account for much in life, I have learnt that sacrifices are works of foolish people and the most important lesson never love someone so much that they can hurt you.

So at the end of this all I would like to say thank you. Thank you for hurting me so much that I will never be hurt again.

Yours truly,

-M

My Dear - 29

2006-08-17T08:26:00.000-07:00

To the one adjacent

Dear Person in the adjacent cube,

The first day you walked in to the office, I expected you to be younger. At lunch you said you were single and my curiosity rose. You slowly took over the controls. Your quality to attract people won you many friends around the office. People would come and talk to you, and it was not just business. It made me jealous. We talked only business. I wanted to be one of those people whom you talked to so freely. I used to think of topics and current issues to talk in your presence. But they would never come out, never could take the many opportunities that came my way. But somehow I had cultivated the knack of getting my foot in my mouth whenever you were around. I would curse myself and so many times swore not to talk of things am not sure of, but I havent changed a bit.
I do not understand how you manage to get the best out of people. You always say the right things, as if u know what we are thinking. I began trusting you, so much that you were the first person whom I confided to when the case happened. I remember how you had consoled me when everything was over and I was shattered over the outcome. How can I ever forget! Being a male you knew what was hurting me.
You have a special place in my heart but I know it will always be closed. I couldnt open it to you, ever. How I wish circumstances were different, but how different. You are so near but yet so far. Sometimes I wonder is it natural to fall for your manager??

Yours truly,
Person in the adjacent cube.

My Dear - 28

2006-08-17T08:25:00.000-07:00

To Girl

My Dear Girl.

This is my first response to you.

I have seen you from the days you were a little girl to this day.
The same innocence, the same kindness, the same little girl deep inside.
Though you have grown to be a beautiful lady today, you are the same little girl for whom I have cared and cried for.

Nevermind those around you couldn't see the real you, nevermind the one who you loved and whom you thought loved you; only to betray, nevermind those faithless friends of yours, nevermind the group who awaits to knife you with their words. For me, you are still the same little girl with care and kindness.

Your tears have reached me, don't ask me how. I hoped and hoped for my rays touch you. To remove your pain from your tender little heart. For you still are the same little girl, with care and kindness.

One day, you will see and cherish the beautiful things and people around you and only that. You might even forget me, once that happens. It doesn't matter to me even if you do. As you will always remain as the same little girl; with care and kindness in her heart.

From,
The Moon

My Dear - 27

2006-08-08T15:09:00.000-07:00

To Stranger

Dear Stranger,

It’s been a year since we met or spoke. Gosh if someone would have told me I won't talk to you or see you for a whole year I would've laughed it off, the thought itself was unimaginable back then. I know you left for your reasons but you didn't have the decency to inform me, I would have never questioned you. What hurts the most is that you vanished into thin air; yeah I get to hear about you from common people but how about picking up the phone one day and just saying Hello! If you only knew what a mess the past year has been for me, wanted to share so much with you, wanted to hear so much from you. They say time is the biggest healer unfortunately not in my situation. I miss you and think about you every single day. The day we first met to the last, all those hours we spent endlessly chatting over the phone making plans and when we would meet it would turn out to be a 24 hour date. The weekend getaways, the fighting and making up, us not saying a word but still understand what’s going through each other’s mind. The time we spent together is so fresh in my memory, we were inseparable at one point in life and today we live in separate countries. Just come back to where you belong and you belong with me not swallowed in the sea.

Yours,
Waiting for you

My Dear - 26

2006-08-08T04:42:00.000-07:00

To Ammani

My dear Ammani,

Hats off to you for the idea! I read all the letters. I laughed at a couple, tried to act as if a lot of those letters did not bring tears to my eyes. Wondered about atleast 15 people to whom I wanted to write to. I wrote a couple of letters, thinking at the end, it would make me feel better. But you know what, it didn't. It made me feel worse. Especially because both those letters were intended for people who I meet and am in touch with regularly. It made me feel bad that I did not have the guts to tell those people directly, and maybe it is just me, but it made me feel very very sad to put those thoughts down and send it to a public site.

I guess some things will remain too personal to share.

Yours Truly
Mad Mad :-)

My Dear - 25

2006-08-07T10:26:00.000-07:00

To Instructress

My Dear Slimming World Instructress

I didn’t want to miss this chance to tell you what I felt undergoing those “slimming classes”. What a motivation you were, 20 inches in waist and always wearing a size 6 top and a cropped trousers or gym pants, you made sure that we could see your figure well and clearly, didn’t you.

Motivation it was, because when we struggled to count the calories, instead burned by the envy that you caused showing off your 20 inches waist like that. Why do you always put on that smirk when we are weighed in the meeting? Because you secretly believed that we could never lose those extra tyres around our tummy?

Let me tell you a secret. That week when we were humiliated when you wittingly read out our weigh ins …we secretly popped in two malteasers in our mouth. Oh and you must know, I had my aunt send me home made cashew burfi. It was so delicious that I had two 2 inch square pieces at one go. Fantastic! You wouldn’t know those tastes would you, not on your nicotine stained mouth.

Have you ever tasted cashew burfi? Or parathas with Indian ghee? Or badam halwa? Oh how about badusha…melt in the mouth king of sweets - badusha with a glistening coating of sugar crystals? What is your tongue worth if you haven’t tasted these goodies? You’d probably drool over a double chocolate chip cookie sundae and pull deeply into your fag to ward off your cravings. Yeah I know I’ve seen your weakness, on days when the nicotine patch is not there on your arm, you’ve probably had your money’s worth of fags.

I’ll have the last word…having two tyres of fat and being able to relish on the goodness of cashew burfi and sugar coated badusha is far better than your 20 inch waist and tar stained teeth.

I’m so glad I quit your class.

Yours,

Anonymous.

My Dear 24

2006-08-07T07:51:00.000-07:00

To Destiny

My Dear Destiny,

Try as you might,
With All your might,
I will make it light,
For I've seen the light.

Your disobedient,
Survivor

My Dear - 23

2006-08-07T07:49:00.000-07:00

To Writer

Dear Mr. Writer,

We know you are good at using words and all, but please, for God's sake (and yes, we know you don't believe in him) stop going on and on about your literary skills. We beg you, beseech you, plead on our knees. Just stop scratching your words on our faces.

Yours frustratedly,

Essar notepads

P.S. Brouhaha is not spelt broohah

My Dear - 22

2006-08-05T06:42:00.000-07:00

To Cell

Dear Cell,
Stop multiplying.
Stop multiplying.
Stop multiplying.
Stop multiplying.
Stop multiplying.
Stop multiplying.
Stop multiplying.
Stop multiplying....

yours,
Cancerous

My Dear - 21

2006-08-05T05:12:00.000-07:00

To Ammani

Dear Ammani,
I've toyed with writing you this letter for a while now. I've spoken out "the letter" during my shower, I've run through it atleast a hundred times in my head. I know exactly the things I wish I could say to them, because I've been keeping it all in for so long. And when I read that you were asking for entries, I thought to myself that atlast I could find some way of spilling it all out. Just a few minutes ago, I mustered up the courage to write it out. But in a silly way, I'm now scared that writing everything out in words will seal its fate. And I have to keep trying. Not just for me, but for both him and me. And so instead i'm now sending you letter #2.

with love,
me.

My Dear - 20

2006-08-05T05:11:00.000-07:00

To Deepti

Dearest Deepti,

Where are you, my dearest friend? We were the greatest of friends, to the envy, of your elder sister and her friends and our other friends. A boy and a girl in one of the purest relationships. Our worlds were thankfully innocent then. The world became a wonderful place to live in. You made it even more wonderful for me. We were there for each other, no matter what. You sided with me even when it meant getting bullied by your elder sister of 7 evil years. How we both used to hate her? We used to have dinner twice a day. Once, at your house and then, again, at my house or vice-versa; so that we could still be together.

Now, I don’t even know where you are and how you are doing. I haven’t met you at all after that tearful day, 18 years ago, when we had promised each other to always be in touch, no matter what. You must be the same age as mine. Now, you must be a beautiful woman (well, you will always be beautiful, no matter what). You, like me, would be experiencing the greatest experience known as life, in all its shades. You would have other wonderful friends too. You, like me, would be wondering about your dearest friend, me. For all I know, you might be married and might be the mother of a son. Who knows, that son of yours might have a “girlfriend”, and their friendship might serve as a constant reminder of ours to you.

Beautifully converge only to diverge. Sigh!!! one of the biggest ironies in life.

Well, I hope we meet someday. My best wishes and love to you. I would always pray for your well-being and happiness. May all your dreams come true.

Regards and Love,
Vivek.

My Dear - 19

2006-08-04T10:35:00.000-07:00

To Boss

Boss:

I am happy that you announced the awards over the team meeting. I am happy that atleast 1/3d of the team was worthy of your attention and received the awards. I am happy that 2 of immediate colleagues have received the award.

However, I am unhappy about many selections. I have more than just a shred of doubt over some selections. I have absolutely no doubt about the sinister way in which you are choosing to disregard contributions from deserving colleagues. I have complete confidence in your ability to go low by choosing to reward non-performers.

And by the way...

- Did you know that it was me who initiated the Knowledge Growth practice in our team and not Antony?
- Did you know that it was me who prepared and submitted 2 Intellectual Capitals that got approved in the organizations KM group and it was not Siva?
- Did you know that I have the second highest number of project releases this year and Manoj had atleast 4 less than mine?
- Did you know that I have saved atleast 3 PMs from dangerous escalations saved their faces in the past one quarter?
... and so many more that I can keep on listing to a blank wall!

If you knew, atleast 4 of those awards would have been on my name.

Thanks
Your Reportee

My Dear - 18

2006-08-04T10:34:00.000-07:00

To TV Serial Director

Dear director,

I have been watching all your TV serials and wanted to mail you. Now that I had your mail id thought of conveying few things which were in my mind.

Could you please let me know why you preferred to show this story more focussed on a young lady’s suffering? I am sick with the way you are showing your title. On what basis do you prepare the slots and shots. Your suspenses are monotonous that my five year old daughter too has started telling the next step. I could not understand why your stories always has a drunkard, a Widow sister, and a cruel mother-in-law. Are you very depressed in your life? Why are you not practical and realistic? Do you think that our ladies always like sentimental. Your heroine says that it is immoral to have two wives. Why couldn’t you think the same for your personal life? There had been lots of gossips that you are a womaniser. You were portraying through the heroine’s dad that alcoholism helps no one. Don’t you realise it for yourself? My friend who works in a five star hotel says that you visit their bar often, and have to be lifted most of the weekends. Your serial always has children missing their father. Don’t you realise that you hardly visit home to spend time with your children.

Please do not be a stranger. Preach what you practise. Try to portray few positive characters.

Also keep visiting your house regularly. Your family is missing you.

I do not mind the latest gossip of an affair with your heroine.

Yours truly,

Sarala

(If you remember your original and legal wife)

My Dear - 17

2006-08-04T10:32:00.000-07:00

To friend

My dear friend,

Do you remember the day we met nine years ago? We thought we'd make great friends despite our contrasting interests and we did. I taught you to ride a bike, to analyze share markets and to solve crosswords. Whenever I solved a puzzled faster than you, you'd say - "I so want to be you." I never forgot how you beat me in a game of chess one day and jumped like a victor of war. You taught me how to choose classy outfits, introduced me to contact lens and didn't give up until I replaced my 'Bata' unisex sandal with a pair of trendy footwear. Whenever I struggled with the color harmony of my dress, you'd tell me what a pathetic learner I was.

My aim was to become an Economist, while you had no such lofty ambitions. You wanted to marry early, stay at home and take care of your kids. 'Oh, loser' I had murmured in my head condescendingly, when I heard you say that. Honestly, I couldn't think a whit of being you!

A couple of days ago, out of curiosity, I ran a google search on your name and found the result taking me to the website of London school of Business. I found your name and picture in the list of candidates who have successfully completed MBA. In the picture, you looked fresh and young, full of energy and zeal. You too must be curious to know what I do, but I am sure google wouldn't return any result if you searched. I fell in love, married at 20 and I am a housewife now, serving endless meals, taking care of old in-laws, a cute year-old son and a loving husband. I have exactly the kind of wardrobe you suggested I must have, I visit a beauty salon every fortnight and I wear footwear with a 3-inch heel. But, you know what? Today, my heart is filled with a yen to be you. I am overwhelmed with pain and agony, when I realize that today's 'you' is none other than yesterday's 'I'.

Take care,
An old friend.

My Dear - 16

2006-08-04T01:59:00.000-07:00

To Manager

Dear Manager of McDonald,

This letter is to notify of you my resignation as of September 1st. It has been my utmost pleasure working for f#@%ers like you. I have found the experience I was initially looking for in a low life, power-hungry, corrupted fast food restaurant. I've learned to despise your lowly customer service and disgusting environment. I actually sometimes wonder if the beef you are serving is more disgusting than your work 'ethics'. However, I am greatly thankful and immenesly satisfied taht I spent more than an year in this dump---err--- restaurant because it taught me to never stoop this low again. As of September 1st, I would to resign my wonderful positon as a customer service specialist. But one thing for sure, I still have no clue what you mean by being a specialist because I know the job you expect me to do hardly requires any speciality. Once again, thank you for providing me with this invaluable experience. One more thing, you can be sure that I would not return to work here again and I am willing to promise this on the Big Mac you made four hours ago!!!

Sincerely,

Meera

My Dear - 15

2006-08-04T01:58:00.000-07:00

To Boss

Dear Ignoramus of a Boss Person

Wearing you ignorance and political incorrectness on your sleeve 24/7 is not a grand idea; especially when the cumulative IQ of your diverse workforce exceeds yours exponentially. Don’t you realize that every time you ask the friendly Indian lady about woman’s rights in India and follow it up with a little discourse on Afghanistan( courtesy CNN), you cause us to erupt into howls- internally? Stop, our bellies can’t take it any more.

What is it about the soft mannered gay gentleman in the next building that riles you so much? Are you afraid he might make a pass at you? Here, here, let me put you out of your wretched misery. Darling, your fat, balding farmhand charms might work on your wife who has borne you five + children, but I believe that fella is looking for a little more. So the next time around, during lunch time could we please cut out the “gay-luv-uh” jokes?

Speaking with an accent is perfectly acceptable. Now I know it’s difficult to get that piece of information through your thick cranium into your pea sized brain. So let’s try this once again. Speaking with an accent is FINE, especially if you possess a cute French one. By the way, did you know that chicks dig cute foreign accents? You could ask your teenage daughter the next time you guys are discussing family matters like her reckless sleeping around and your wife’s binging tendencies. And another thing, spare us the gory details later on. No, we are not prudes, infact we love dissecting your personality and exchanging gossip as much as the next person. But its time we gave it up. You are beginning to affect our productivity and we really want to move on, away from you and your stupid, insensitive jokes.

Regards

The Snooty One

My Dear - 14

2006-08-04T01:57:00.001-07:00

To best friend

To my best friend,

A few weeks ago when you told me that you were in an unhappy marriage and didn't love you husband - my heart broke. It was at that I realised the inadequecy of email, chat and cheap telephone rates - things that I am usually so grateful for. what was the point? You were thousands of miles away and I couldn't hug you. Take you in my arms and tell you it would be ok.

In fact, I couldn't even tell you what I really felt. That your husband was an asshole and that your motherinlaw needed a good kick up her ass. That it was time your parents stopped worrying what other people thought. That you didn't need this shit. You are wonderful. You deserve someone who loves and adores you. Who wakes up every morning realising how lucky he is to be married to you. Leave him I wanted to say. Go back to your parents take up a job.

I wanted to call him up and abuse him. Call up his mother and ask her what gave her the right to say the things she did. Tell her that her son was not proof of her being some divine/superiour soul that God had chosen to have a boy. It was just chromosomes. Nothing else. You and your boy are not special I wanted to yell.

I wanted to tell you what I would have done in your situation. Fight. Yell. Throw things.

Instead I listened. Made soothing noises. Mildly suggested you take a holiday in your Mother's place for a few months. He'll see how wrong he's been. He'll come back and say he's sorry. He'll change.

There were questions things I was too scared to ask and say. Does he hit you? Why are you thinking of having children with this person? I love you. I'm sorry.

My Dear - 13

2006-08-04T01:57:00.000-07:00

To Athai

To my dear athai (aunt)…..
.
A general saying that nephews resemble their mama (uncle) nieces resemble their athais (aunts)………not only in physical appearance but also in character.
When I was a new born baby I resembled my father later my bubby athai says my Patti (grand ma). But now my resemblance is more or less similar to that of my mother.
I keep my mother busy for 24 hrs in taking care of me and I have started giving sounds like ‘aah’ ‘ooh’ if nobody is beside me. I think the first word which Iam going to say is athai……. Iam trying for it…. As soon as I utter the word I will give you a call.
Do you know athai …….. On the naming ceremony I waited for your call to hear my name from you … But I was disappointed.
But do not bother all those who utter my name cannot become my athai. It is always you and only you…..
I hear the voice of bubby athai over the phone whenever she speaks to my mother.Iam eager to hear your voice too...
I received the gift sent by you .I really like it. You saw me as a small baby in the photos but by the time you come to India I will be a toddler and will be ready to play with JIKKU anna (brother).
Iam awaiting your arrival and also eager to meet JIKKU anna (brother).
With this letter of mine-
I honor my athai who wrote about me in JIKKU two months before.
By now you would have recognized me …….
Yes, Iam none other than the two month old niece of AMMANI athai and chinna AMMANI athai!!!!!

with love
Ananya

My Dear - 12

2006-08-04T01:56:00.000-07:00

To Sweetheart

Sweetheart,

I don't know how to say that I love you, without both you and me getting uncomfortable and not knowing what to do next. Me - I'd like to hug you and kiss you, but there are some invisible barriers that I do not know how to break. And perhaps you'd like to do the same, except you'd like me to do it first... because there are invisible barriers for you too.

When you used to mail me, signing yourself as "love, p", I thought you really did. And I did too...
Anyway, after some time we stopped signing our mails that way. Then we stopped sending mails altogether. Then we stopped meeting. Then you fell in love with another guy. That didn't work. You married yet another guy. That isn't working out either.

It's not your fault, sweetheart. We were both kids, and I let you go because I thought you'd be happier that way. It kills me that you're unhappy now, but it also kills me that there's nothing I can do about it.

I don't know what I should have done or what you should have done. All I know is that everybeat of my heart is yours, and I will never let you be unhappy again, if I could have it my way. This I swear.

If my life means anything at all, there will never be a day that you feel you're any lesser than anyone else on earth.

But.. I have a favour to ask of you - could you sign your mails "love, p" again? Even if you don't mean it?

ih

My Dear - 11

2006-08-04T01:55:00.000-07:00

To brother

Backboneless Brother.

"Anna" now sounds too familiar an address for someone who's grown so distant.

Our mother is fine, though you don't care about that. I hope you're taking care of your wife and kid.

Sometimes when I think of you, though that doesn't happen often... sometimes when I think of you I wonder where it went wrong for you.

We didn't grow up together, so I don't really know you or what you went through. Was it that you needed amma when you went to college? Did you need someone to lean on but could find only the old, unreliable shoulders of grandma - whom everyone hates anyway? We didn't have a dad - so you couldn't have missed that - but was it that you had to take on responsibilities before you were ready for it?

Or was it nothing to do with your youth - is it just the way you're wired?

What about post college, when you struggled to find a job? Did that hit your self esteem? Did it trouble you that your younger brother was more successful? Is that why Pati once told me "don't do too well in the exams"? Did it trouble you that I didn't respect you, the way they do in the movies? I want to tell you this - I would have, if you'd only held yourself up. You didn't have to be brilliant or a stud. You forced me to "respect" you but you never earned it.

But what most troubles me is the way you treated amma. She's gone through a lot, and she's still going through a lot, but maybe she has got used to it. She struggled to get you a good girl to get married to and suffered more than you know during your marriage. And while you gallivanted around with your wife amma kept waiting for your phone calls, wondering if you were doing fine. Was it wrong of her to ask you and your wife some basic questions? Did you have to obey your wife when she told you to stop talking to your own mother? Did your wife's tears matter much more than your mother's?

Why couldn't you call her for your daughter's birth!? She was in the same city then! What could she tell others - that she had become a grandma but she was yet to see her grandchild?

She still loves you, amma, in case you were wondering. She has started going to church - which is crazy considering we're brahmins - but I don't tell her anything because she has to do what gives her peace. She always smiles, she always talks cheerfully, but God knows what hell she goes through when she thinks of you. She still tells me your wife is a good person. I say yes, ma, we don't know what pressures they're going through. And she nods because she believes me, our naive mother, and that it is no one's fault but fate that has led to your not talking to her anymore. She even went the rounds of quite a few astrologers with your horoscope, wanting to find out if you would talk to her again. And she prays more now.

I don't know if I have the right to judge, but it seems to me like you must be ashamed of yourself.

I don't hate you, but I definitely don't love you. You're too distant for any emotion. The most emotion I have is a sense of regret, and a little shame, when others talk of their own brothers, and how strong a bond they have. I just think that you will grow up someday.

Trust me, if we meet I won't talk of any of this. If we meet I will smile at your wife, play with your kid, act like we're the best of friends, and you'll feel that all is fine with the world, and all your decisions were right, and you treated us exactly the way you should have.

All the best. Hope your daughter grows up well.

My Dear - 10

2006-08-04T01:54:00.000-07:00

To you

Hi,

I dunno how you'll take it, coz even I don't know why I'm writing this.
But trust me this not to upset you, or moreover not to upset myself or
anyone else.

Its been more than 6 years we talked to each other, I always beloved we
were in love in all those prior 700 hundred days, and I still remember how
bitterly you cried when we left for UK.

I understand those must be tough initial days for you to survive alone in an
alien cold country. But still sometimes I wonder, after four months what
made you change that too drastically, and marry someone else. And here I was
waiting for you, trying out feng shui and what else for your happiness.
Perhaps that worked ;-)

No worries, now I'm happy, and I know you too are happy (damn,common friends
they never spare a chance to drop names..wicked pleasure u know!)

Well, you shouldn't have cried that, coz that's the last image of your's
I've. And I regret that.

I know its boring, so I'm.

Take good care of yourself!

--Anonymous

My Dear - 9

2006-08-04T01:52:00.001-07:00

To Sir

Dear Sir,

Do you know what it means to have a person refer to you as 'Sir'? Do you know that we need to feel the respect in order to give it to you? I suppose you have not heard of the self-esteem, since you squash it with gay abandon. Or, it could be a reflection of your own lack of it. I don't know.
But this much is for certain. You may think that you have power to swing my days from bad to terrible. It is true, but not for long. I have seen too many twerps in my lifetime to let your whims rules my mood. You call me bad? I'll show you that I am not only good at what I do - but also excel at it.
A decade later:I can't decide whether to feel sorry for you, hate you or thank you for what you did to me. It is because of your belittling me, that I put those very talents to use, and rose to my current coveted position. And now, you laugh nervously and proclaim I was the best!
I shall thank you - Thank you sir!

With regards,

My Dear - 8

2006-08-04T01:52:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

Hope you get this letter as I am not sure about your existence and don’t know your address. I used to visit you in the temples and sing bhajans at school when I was growing up. Then there was a period when I thought you didn’t exist and stopped them. But now, I am not sure whether you exist or not. So many people believe in you (although in different names and forms) and that makes me wonder. When I see people of different denominations fight over a piece of land in your name, I think that you would not let people die, if you were around. But then people die and you don’t do anything about it and so I think that you are not there. Then there are things like the beautiful sunrise, perfect snow flake and colorful flowers that make me think that somebody has created these with a good plan. And so I wonder.

If you are there, I have a few requests for you. Stop innocent people from being killed through acts of violence, kids getting killed because of their parent’s actions and dogs getting killed because of a totalitarian regime. Tell people that you are only one and all human beings are really created equal regardless of how they look, speak or act. Make good people live longer and don’t let anybody suffer through old age on their own. And finally, make ice-cream and cheesecake good for us.

If I get a reply from you, I will know that I was wrong all this time. But if I don’t get a reply, I will continue wondering this way, till I see any or all of the above requests taken care of.

Cheers,

Wondering Agnostic

My Dear - 7

2006-08-04T01:51:00.000-07:00

To Girl

Dear Girl,

I know you read ammani's blog. So I wont write anything about you here. Dont worry

-Prabhu

My Dear - 6

2006-08-03T03:51:00.000-07:00

To Blue Book

What a pain you have become, my little blue book! A mill stone around my bleeding neck. You are not welcome anywhere, my blue companion. I am treated with suspicion when they see me carrying you around. Send sniffer dogs behind my back. And pry open my suitcase for dangerous wepons. How I wish I could throw you away and get another one!

But it wasn't always like this, I remember. I applied for you, my little book, months before I turned 18 and the day you arrived by post, it felt momentous. I was the first in the family to have one and I went around the house showing you off. As if I had earned you somehow. Some weeks later, you had your first little stamp and soon we were on a plane to a distant land.

You and I have been through some interesting times together. Do you remember the time, when I lost you in a far away place? And spent all morning crying my eyes out because, suddenly, I was nobody. A non-entity. And then you sprung up out of the blue. Someone had found you discarded in a rubbish pile. The money from my wallet was gone but you had been left behind. Even the burglar had little use for you.

And this morning, thanks to you, I was reminded once again where I stand in the hierarchy. How tempted I was to trade you in for a spanking new burgundy coloured booklet with an embossed crown on top. Then I could flash my new book everywhere and be granted entry almost instantly. I would be privileged. And be considered important.

But I hesitate. You are more than just a collection of stamped pages to me. You are my passport. To a place I call home.

Yours,

Confused.

My Dear - 5

2006-08-03T03:50:00.000-07:00

To Priest

Dear Hindu Temple Priest,

I forgot to inform you that I am a divorcee. I dont know if you believe in divorcee remarriages, but you conducted my marriage very elegantly. I adored you the entire two hours. Your enthusiasm and your high spiritedness were infectious. I dont think I really was hiding it from you. I simply forgot to think about informing you and wonder about its implications as I am doing now. It hit me only in the end of the ceremony, when you turned around to the american audience and informed them "In Hindu culture, marriage is only once." Until then I completely was in awe with your beautiful english translation of every ritual and every verse that was being used there. I was so astounded, I forgot to giggle. But the rest of the crew who knew my status (not all) were given what they were waiting for, a shock treatment or a deride of the bride. Their reception of it became so obvious when none of them mentioned the irony for the next 24 hours they spent with us. You know dear priest, none of the americans knew I was a divorcee, you werent aware that none of them were a divorcee. But the most surprising thing is that I dont seem to hate you as much as many of the other audiences did. Your sense of humour was misunderstood quite a bit. I havent yet told her that you apologized when she stepped out to pour the arathi. I dont think you really care that the persons who acted as my mother and father were known to me only through my brother in law a month ago. In the photo were I am looking at the Arundhati star, my eyes have dilated and I look like a devil reflecting the conflicting reality. But you know dear priest, I was completely charmed by your happiness and enthusiasm over my marriage. We had to do it at the temple only because my father in law who let his son marry a divorcee, thought tying a mangal-sutra inside the temple was foremost important and he wouldnt negotiate on that. Did I also mention my periods had started that day! Why bother you with such unnecessary details? I didnt plan on that either, it so happens that my chart fluctuates quite a bit. My first marriage which happened in the presence of about 1000 relatives, quite elaborately draining the entire provident fund of my father's retirement, went flawless, except for a few ego-clashes of strange relatives. In this marriage not one of the persons who attended knew me for more than a month, except the groom. I dont know what you think about the "Kushboo episode." But I would like to inform you that I and the groom were sleeping the same cheap walmart purchased queen bed, which Mrs.Josephine thinks is too small for two of us, for about 6 months before we got married! You dont know what revolution you were creating. After all I am in love with my husband. Isnt that revolutionary?

yours,

bride a year ago.

My Dear - 4

2006-08-03T03:48:00.000-07:00

To Beauty Parlour Aunty

My dear 'Beauty Parlour' Aunty,

Thanks for all the fish. And Thanks, but no thanks for all the titbits -The extremely creative
ways in which you have been giving me your impression of my beauty regime. Listen woman, I have better things to do than polish my face into shiny perfection or count every whitehead that
rears its ugly head on my nose. I have beautiful hair and the fact that I dont Mehendi every 4
weeks does not mean I have nothing going for me. Your suppressed but obvious disdain at the
hair on my upper lip; or the way you try 'not to' show your disapproval at my lack of
sophistication is despicable. Your kind advice to not let the sun and wind get anywhere close
to my face has been noted, thank you so much. There is nothing wrong with my nails though, I
just dont spend 4 hours a day filing them between every few lines of code that I write. No, I
dont want my hair coloured and I dont see why I should feel gauch about it. I just want you to
shape my eyebrows and wax my arms. You can give me simple beauty tips, if you please, butyour
opinion of what all I need to do to 'get my damaged assets back on line' is preferred canned. I
work hard all week and I dont need to know how sloppy I am because I use eye liner and not kohl
pencil. I dont even care, for God's sake. How often do I comment on your fat ass? It's bad for
the health too, u know? And have you though of whether the ammonia fumes from the bleach you
keep using has affected your brains? I think they have. You are very polite always, of course.
And I pay you for making me feel unfashionable and miserable after every visit.I look fine,
really, and I dont want you to thread the hair on the back of my cheek. It doesnt even show,
but to your ever watchful eye. The tiny hair on my fingers would not have bothered me but for
your branding of it. My elbows are not dry and I religiously apply moisturizer after a bath. I
am not that great with sunscreen, but a little bit of sun is good for everyone. I do not want
the pale lizard skin that you have acquired from sitting in the AC all day. Oh, and I always
realize how you 'quote' other people in order to make 'suggestions'. And that's exactly why I
always crinkle up my nose and talk about 'other' beauty parlours that dont use disposable
waxing strips or change the combs they use after every haircut. Oh, and just so you know, I
bring my own comb for the haircut quoting it as a personal preference, but that's just to make
you realise what I think about your sense of hygiene. Hah.

Anon

My Dear - 3

2006-08-03T03:47:00.000-07:00

To Amma

My dear Amma

How are you? It has been 2 years since we spoke to each other and 4.5 years since I had last visited home.. strangely.. i dont miss you at all or appa or rajanna or senthanna or pappyka.. deep down I have always been ready for this.. it all started when, in a fit of anger.. all of 8 years old I said i wanted to run away from home and you said.." you should have.. ..why did you come back?".. or " I named you "... " because at that time she was our neighbour and i thought appa had a fancy for her.. i hate you as much as i hate your name.." or when i came back after 3 years in the hostel for the first time and both senthenna and rajanna wldnt bother to take their eyes of the TV to wish me a simple "hi".. or when i thought you were upset because akka did not like your choice of invitation for her "seemantham" and hence helpfully offered " dont worry amma.. is shall have that for! mine.." and you said.." dont you think i would do all this for you.. it is only for the first child .." - you know what?That is when i decided that for my marriage i will not invite you.. you would be the one who would be left out when the choice came to me.. and that is exactly what i did.. went ahead and married the man of my choice with just 2 of my close friends.. i was 13 when i decided that you would not be invited for my wedding.. to imagine that you have all been shocked when i finally did it at 23!.. or may be it was dear old akka.. who was painfully made aware by all and sundry that she is less beautiful and less intelligent than i was.. and that made her stoke your hate for me.. poor thing... atleast she made an effort to love me and failed.. and appa.. anyway you fed anger and hatred against appa in all of us.. even when we cowered when he lashed at the 2 of us in one of his innumberable mad fits.. you would put your arms around akka ! and say.." dont worry , let us both leave somewhere far a! way..&qu ot; and one day you did.. leaving me behind.. and i came crying and running to catch up with you.. you came backtoo..too bothered to even look behind where i was trailing you on the way back home..
For a good 23 years of my 26 years.. i spent wondering.. what was so wrong with me that my own mother hated me so much.. i look so much like you that there is no question of my being anybody else's.. even now there is no possible reason that i can think of.. my name would be too ridiculous a reason.. it has taken my wonderful hubby ,my best friend and a great but unfortunate friendship to tell me that i am worth being loved.. that sometimes people hate others for no reason at all.. that in fact, i am quiet likeable.. what hell i went through for those 23 years.. hating myself.. an educated, smart woman without a semblence of confidence.. a wimp who drank phenoyl at the age of 14.. (remember you saw me drink phenoyl and still waited till i went to school and the teacher bought me back vomiting and dizzy.. and you still didnt take me to the hospital.,.) ..

Of late a friend of mine said.." may be your mother pinned all her hopes on you.." - which one did i fail? i topped my class regularly, won more prizes than the rest of the family put together, am the only one to complete 2 competitive degrees with no donations whatsoever, am far ahead of any of the others in my corporate career.. all the parents wanted a daughter like me.. and they said so to you amma.. what was your problem with me.. I have moved away from you.. so that your ghost does not haunt the peaceful life that i enjoy now.. but sometimes.. i cant help but wonder.. Was it me.. or Was it something else..

Regards,

Anon

My Dear - 2

2006-08-03T03:45:00.000-07:00

To Snowhite

My Dear Snowhite,

It has been long since I have spoken to you in a loving manner but I shall do so today. I have said many things to you, and done many more, by which I accorded a high place in your heart, yet how I fell from it? It was all a matter of circumstance –

Circumstance, my dear, is a tricky thing, that even the best of men can turn to be the worst by it, and the worst of them to be the best – a king to a pauper, a child to a man, and a man to his fours – and I should know, dear, I should know – as I’ve known it all my days. Though upon your return I saw no act of atonement, nor the seeking of forgiveness, here I say - I forgive you as truly as you are borne in my thoughts daily – for how can you ask for forgiveness for something you’ve never thought you’ve wronged in the first place?

Yes – I understand that it was circumstance. Some may say that circumstance is no excuse – not at all, my dear, not at all. But they who do not assent to circumstances are very high people – not by fortune or rank but by nature and goodness – and high things are as high things aught to be: rare. And we can’t all be high and rare, can we now, my dear?

You are a good person – a good person, or you’d have never gained my love, attention, and care. Yet as time passes by, as I age, I am starting to understand that, not all good people can be good to all, and therefore, I forgive you - as I always have, as I always will.

With Love,

A mere beggar

My Dear-1

2006-08-03T03:37:00.000-07:00

Letter to D

D. I am sorry it had to be done this way. It must have been overwhelming to hear the frustrations of a five year marriage, in one night, over the phone, nine thousand miles away. I have always wanted to tell you how difficult it is for me: to hear you lie all the time, to nod in mock agreement, when you deny having feelings for S. And how draining it is for me to console you after one of your emotional outbursts, when it's me that's hurting. I hate: how you never call me at work, and make me feel guilty by saying you did not want to 'disturb' me, when I ask. Believe me, sometimes, I want to be disturbed. How it's always me, that has to make up, regardless of whose fault it is. It really drives me nuts, your indifference. How it is always about your parents and brother and nothing else matters, not even me. How when it comes to them, money is no object. And how when it came to money, it's always ours if it's mine and only yours if it's yours. How you do not want to take responsibility for anything, everything that's wrong, including your health is mine or someones fault, but never yours. How we cannot have kids. How you always want to do the fun stuff, like browse the shops, but do not want to do the serious stuff, like wait in line at the cashier's. How little you've invested in this relationship, emotionally or otherwise, but demand so much from it. Family and friends tell me I was foolish, that I should have seen this. But how do I tell them, that this is the only way I know to love, giving it everything, installments are for mortgages. G.