Tag: letter

  • TO THE BUTTERFLIES IN THE STOMACH

    TO THE BUTTERFLIES IN THE STOMACH

    Dear Butterflies,

    Long time no see!

    I thought you all moved to someplace else, because it had been quite some time since I last heard from you. I was confused then, struggling to understand whether the absence was good or bad.

    I still am, about your return.

    No matter how much I enjoy the fleeting feeling of nervousness that zaps through my body like a jolt from fingers to toes, it’s hard not to notice the companions that seek you. I don’t blame you for them, but you all did hang around with”uncertainty” and “rejection” all day long in the past. You definitely have attracted some bad company in the past, and I can still see their faces lurking out just outside the gates.

    It always puts me in a difficult position, because I really enjoy being with you all. I always find a different side of myself in your presence, a much happier side. But I also hate to see you rush away as soon as those guys show up. Past mistakes are hard to wash away at times.

    I wish I was strong enough to stand up against them earlier, but they were strong, and ruthless. Now, I think I can deal with them, but putting you into the mix changes things. I don’t think I am capable enough to save you yet. If I decide to stand up for you, we both will suffer.

    So even though it was a thrill to meet you after so long, I think you should go back. It’s not safe for you yet. Maybe you should not pay me a visit for a while. Let’s maintain the distance for mutual safety and non-exposure to your street-side romeos.

    I hope the time comes when I’ll be strong enough to welcome you back and to protect you. Till then, just be alive.

    I’ll find you, I guess.

    Yours,

    Absinraw

  • FRIEND ON A SUNDAY

    Hi Friend on a Sunday,

    Sorry for being such an ass, but since you know I am an ass, that makes it okay. I had been thinking of so many people, to whom I could write a letter. But I ended up at you.

    Maybe because I needed to talk to you the most. You always complain that I never call you or contact you. That you are not sure if I even think about how you are doing sometimes. So first thing I would like to clarify with this letter is that, I do. I know what you have went through. I pray to God that nobody should go through similar agony and turmoil. I know what we burn with, is not how the world looks at us, but how we look at ourselves.

    Anyway, bottom-line, my lack of contact is not due to me being wrapped up in my own world. The distance which you feel is not because I don’t care or am tired of caring, but because I want to care. It is a safety cushion for me. That tomorrow when things go south in my life, it could be contained. People say, friends can help each other through all thick and thin. That they are the people with whom you can be your most shameful self and they’ll accept you.

    We both know that proportionality of the vulnerability is directly related to the amount anyone opens themselves up. And I trust you, but I don’t trust myself.

    I don’t think if you realise, that the stakes have been highest with us. I cannot afford to gamble here, do a little bit of experimentation. Our friendship is 20 years old. And it is a constant one. We have seen every single phase possible of each other. That is the concrete basis of my belief, that you’ll survive anything that comes in your way. However, just remember that whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. But it does shatter your emotions. It starts from the zigzag broken edges, as with each hit, the crack travels a little more towards the center.

    You know when there is an uproar in any of our lives, we have our own way of dealing with it. Trust me when I say, I am more at ease when you are in a good space and I am in shitty situation, as compared to the opposite. Because I can handle my shit in some way or the other, but I cannot do so on your behalf. Moreover, what if my shitty response gave you a shitty idea which shat over an existing shitty situation?

    Too much shit all over.

    Now that we are clear on where we are coming from, I’ll start the actual letter.

    I was just thinking about some incidents that happened when we were kids. This was somewhere in 4th standard, when we evolved from pencils to pens. When bhaiya used to come to Johny’s house for taking drawing classes. So, my mom sent me to take those.

    I bought those fancy scented wax colors, the one with the heads of those superheroes, and a brand new sketch book. I was quite excited that I’ll get to learn something new. What he made me do, was copy one of Johny’s drawings, color by color. And man I was pissed. Since then we have mutual respect for each other, I guess.

    You ratted me out once when I bunked school to go to Manish Bhaiya’s  PS2 parlour. To take revenge, I changed all the moves of your default player Stone Cold Steve Austin to a female wrestler’s. You got your ass handed the next time you came to play. Though that would have been the result otherwise too.

    Knowing me, me forgetting about you should be the least of your concerns. However we are in a space, as opposite as possible, to the kind of future we imagined. Our past selves would have definitely been shocked, and bombarded us with all sorts of questions about what went wrong. And those jerks could be nasty and ruthless. We need to set things right, by bringing ourselves on the right track.

    The person who didn’t use to give or take shit from anybody else, should not be questioning their interpersonal skills now, when they need to be the person they always have been. People get misjudged all the time. People don’t get the second chance they thought they deserve, plenty of times. Open up any history book and start reading. The difference between the names you’ll find in the book and the ones you don’t, is what they did after that.

    As far as I am concerned, no I haven’t figured it all out. I am probably a bigger disappointment to my past self than you could ever be. But I think I have started to make my peace with it. Instead of thinking about where I should have been, what I deserved, I am more on the lines of where I am and how to make the best use of it to reach what I think I deserve. So that I could just get away with a tap on my head by my past self.

    It’s our individualistic journey. We can be of limited help to each other, but I believe that if any of us does good, it triggers the best in the other too. We never have been competitors, but team mates, who ultimately score for the team.

    I can continue writing for an eternity and still there will be topics left. That’s how long it has been and the kind of content I have accumulated over time. But maybe for some other letter, some other reality check.

    –Your Friend on a Saturday,
    Abhinav

     

     

  • A LETTER TO THE SELFIE QUEEN

    I hated “Selfies”. With time I have come to terms with the fact, that some fads are more bearable if you just let them run their course. But originally, I was a selfie hater.

    So, I guess it won’t be too hard to imagine my perception towards anyone who would be crowned as a “Selfie Queen”. Even though the “Selfie Queen” actually won a dumb competition in a senior-junior ice breaking event, so not exactly her fault. Still, Selfie Queen?? Yuck..

    Anyway, with the kind of love I had for the selfies and the similar feeling extended naturally towards their righteous queen, imagine my horror when a stupid “Name in the Slip” game chose me to be her buddy, just for the sake of a good senior-junior interaction.

    Like, best social event ever.

    Trust me when I say, I tried avoiding it like a plague. The queen was buzzing around me asking everyone who the person in her paper-slip was, as I sat there tight lipped, praying the heavens above to save an atheist from the amazing turn of events. But what are friends for. Welcome to the first awkward interaction.

    And there I was, prior to that event, thinking I would definitely help my junior buddy in every way possible, guide them throughout so that they could make the best out of their first year. How could I do that to the queen?? Somehow the interaction ended and I thanked God we didn’t exchange the number. I smiled inside as I thought that the God was merciful. But no! Just a few days later, I accidentally stumbled across the queen yet again, and this time we ended up exchanging numbers.

    Still, all had not been lost yet. I could still pass another three trimesters without coming in contact with this buddy queen of mine, in the total population of roughly 800 students in a closed residential campus. Speak about heights of optimism.

    And then it happened. Bruno was gone. I don’t remember this bit because I was too shaken at that time. But somehow we ended up talking, me and queen. Surprisingly, this conversation was nothing like what I would have normally expected. Because it was a healing one. That’s when I saw Ms. Dutta for what she is and I came to know this remarkable human being.

    OK, this all was too far-fetched and the exact facts have been dyed in heavy illusions to give this flavor. But too much praise is not my style and I am trying to heavily cut on sugar. Moreover, from this point onward, it’s going to be praises all along anyhow.

    Among people I see and come across on daily basis, who all are unique in their own sense, the rarity which always has fascinated me is the complexity of the simplicity. People are either complex, or simple, or seem complex but are simple. Then there are people like Ms. Dutta, who seem simple, but you always get a vibe similar to the one you feel while looking at the ocean from the shore; the surface is easy to read but the depth cannot be fathomed. She definitely is much more than what meets the eye. And I confirmed this when we had conversations. We never discussed rocket science, but the thoughts conveyed always had a weight in it, which usually comes with observation and experience. The beauty of it all is, the kind of temperament you would imagine for someone described as above, she doesn’t come even close. Ms. Dutta is as chirpy, as bubbly, as talkative, as fun-loving, as inversely proportional wise aged her soul is. I don’t know how she finds this balance. Or if she has a switch to her different modes, where just one exists at a time.

    Either Ms. Dutta, or the “Selfie Queen” 😛

    With the terrifying ability to pull off any joke or sarcasm with such a straight face, Ms. Dutta is what you would call a bundle of joy, made up of ages old ingredients, wrapped up in fancy packing. To top it all off, commendable command over the language, and the “could get killed over” quality, of being a glutton without being fat.

    Damn, even I am jealous.

    Well, that’s too much already for your B’day so I’ll wrap it up by saying two thing.

    1. Thank God your Churus didn’t win SuperChef, because nobody should be potentially good at so many things.
    2. Pink Potato, if you won’t do anything about it, I’ll steal it.

    Your b’days will come and go, but keep celebrating yourself each day. You deserve nothing less. Many many happy returns of the day.

     

     

     

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