To The Little Girl Who was Part of My Childhood...

I know this is not the best of times to write you, and neither of us is having a great time in our independent lives. But is was my deep desire to write something to you, and perhaps the first time I am doing something of such intensity, in an open room such as this blog.

Our journey started a few decades ago, with a minute time gap of 2 years between us. Not a significant gap between us, and that cause d many things positive and negative to happen between us. All the childhood days we lived in the Hill Palace, we have been only with ourselves, and we have a very large world to explore. The good days were so good, and the bad days were so bad. During some such bad days we made all in the family believe that the prime purpose of our individual existence is to eradicate the other, and they strongly believed that if we were left alone in at home for some time, only one of us would remain, by the end of the day. Still, we managed to stick together and survive.

And survival was key

I don’t know if it was Amma’s loss that brought us more closer together and made us more able to come to rational terms with each other. Whatever it was, this mutual acceptance of rational existence made us more stable, and emotionally closer even together. And it would be so for many many years to come. Even after I moved out to new cities and newer phases of life, our sense of togetherness never changed. It was always nostalgia.

I owe you an apology

I missed your wedding. Had it been done in a little more organized manner, I would have had the chance to attend it. I had to “stay focused and committed to the organization,” which after 6 years of sweat and toil asks me back as to what I have done so far. The reply to that, and related matters shall be part of another blog entry; this one is purely for you.

I have some surprising clarifications to make

Let me see if you remember any one of these.

1. I never picked up Bejoy Wilson’s biscuit box. We went into the school bus together. When he offered to share a piece, I gratefully accepted. This is the true, un-abridged version. You blackmailed me with this accusation you blackmailed me for almost a decade. Well, it didn’t work out beneficial for you as well.
2. I never mentioned the Bishop Tirumeni with an abusive word. It was the fantasy of someone (I forget the name) to get me wrongfully caught. He was retaliating for something.

And there is Sanaa, my little angel

Though we were not her biological parents, both Manju and I loved and cared for her as if she is our own. Now that life has offered us different cups, life will never be the same. As for me, Sanaa is always my little girl. I see you in her. It will always be so for me.

Happy Rakhi!