The 2nd letter to Priyami Dutta; 19th March 2019

Rain Before you start asking. Yes.

This is the second letter. When was the first? Well, think. White envelop, red ribbons, bad English, good intentions…..

Before you start pondering why I am suddenly in Ann frank mode, I would like you to know that in the last 6 and half years that you have been gone, I have not lost my touch of impulsiveness with a side of lunacy which you know very well. I hope that is enough for you to stop thinking about the “why”.

So, Let me start by saying that I love you. Because probably you will never hear me saying it out loud. When it comes to expressing that I care, I am rendered verbally handicapped. I would give you hugs till the cows come home, punch you like a bro, pinch you like a kid or even give you gifts, then blabber nonsense all day but for the life of me I wouldn’t be able to form the right words to say or any words at all that would show how much I care! . And when I try (God knows I have tried); boy oh boy!! It always goes somewhat like this —- 

What I wanted to say was- “I love mushroom” 

What I actually said was- “Mushrooms makes me ecstatic so I am going to open a mushrooms firm but mushroom can be poisonous so I think I should stop eating mushroom so that I don’t end up planting poisonous mushroom that could kill people and it’s for the greater good of society…”!!!

Whaaat!!! And that’s when things usually start racing south to city-of-I-messed-up. Okay. Who am I kidding? I am putting down words because I am feeling rudderless. And this is my lame attempt at an outlet.

Too much prologue. Let me start on the outpouring. It begins with me suddenly waking up from dreaming this morning, to the smell of freshly baked bread and a beam of sunlight piercing through my window glass, casting on the wall the silhouette of some bird that was resting on the windowpane!! The world was good; ……..for about 10 seconds! 

Then the oven alarm went off —Trrrrrrrriiiingg…and reality hit me like a deafening slap across the face. I put the bread just 45 minutes ago because I couldn’t sleep last night, again. After hours of futile attempts at catching some z’s, I went on to bake loaves of bread at around dawn.

(Yes, I bake now. Cannot say that I am very good at it. But yeah. This is something I do not mind getting on with.)

I remembered the bread in the oven that was about to burn to crisps and then came crushing down the recalling why I was having sleepless nights for the last 100s of days. Suddenly the morning sunlight started looking like a summon to the pits of fiery hell. I wanted to dive back into sleep and to the fantasy world I was dreaming of —-a valley full of fireflies, white merchant ships in the encircling green seas and in the midst of stranger beautiful town folks, there I was with friends and family, happy, without a care in the world. Tempting right!?

But I cannot be sleeping beauty and wait to be woken by a true love’s kiss. Apart from the fact that I really do not want waking up to any stranger man kissing me, that’s gross and illegal (he will probably end up with a blinding punch to the face); this is real life; I ain’t no princess! And the person I am neck deep in love with, let’s face it, is not going to true-love’s-kiss me, ever.  And if in some unlikely event that kiss happens, I would like to be fully awake and aware for that, not lie still in a magical coma. 

There, I am gone in cyclic self repressing thoughts of “my love” again. Honestly, it’s more like choking in love with than being in, given the fact that this love Thor-hammered my heart down to pieces and now I cannot bring myself to even hum a song or adore a puppy dog or do literally anything without arousing some piece of memory making it hard to breathe. Memories are funny that way. Time ticks by, People leave, places change. But memories stay and sting. Damn you, memories!!

I don’t know whether to sympathize with or laugh at myself that a broken heart is a reason why I have gone from Miss Happy to be Alive to Miss Whining Zombie in a few months. It’s not like I want to drag myself through each day feeling like a piece of me is missing. 

Sorry. I am ranting. But ranting helps to get over a shattered heart! Or so people say. I will rant some more later. 

Point is, this morning, sleeping to oblivion was not going to take any problem away. Except for maybe dark circles. 

So, I got up.

And opened my laptop. My laptop that had always been there for me come joy or sorrow! Riverdale was paused in Netflix from last night. Do you remember Riverdale from Archie’s comics? They have made a TV series on that. You should see the actor playing Archie. Redhead with freckles, just like in the comics, but so much hotter! And he sings!! On any good day, I would be swooning all over TV Archie and the gang. But my good days are kind of off to vacation in Alaska, seemingly on a looong holiday. 

Speaking of, you promised to take me to the valley of flowers this summer. Have you decided on the dates yet? Please hurry. I heard the flowers there bloom in April. And rightly so. That is springtime, isn’t that! Reminds me of that road running through Engineering College. ….The trees on those roadsides would be all enveloped in red and yellow come springtime. At noon from afar, the skies around would look like on fire. Remember?

I was younger then, take me back to when

I found my heart and broke it here
Made friends and lost them through the years
And I’ve not seen the roaring fields in so long, I know I’ve grown
But I can’t wait to go home


And I miss the way you make me feel, and it’s real
We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill

….Oh! You and I have a picture taken in the middle of that road in spring 2008. Our 2nd year in College. It was when we had that hostel room with a view of the verdant valley below. We could see the road looking like a narrow grey river lined with colored trees on both banks down our window. It also gave a distant but clear visual of anyone passing by; Even in the evenings and nights, when the passerby would walk into the ball of amber light under the street-lamps. That brings back funny memories right!! (Heh heh..sly smile..). 

But that “Room with a view” was not where you and I first met. Was it? The day I first saw and talked to you in Engineering College, was my second day into that new ride of a life. I had only met a handful of people so far, all of who seemed so very prepared to face any new challenge coming up the way in days ahead. And I was so very much not. Yes, I fell in love the minute I walked into that serene piece of heaven that proudly embraced the college; if heaven had monkeys!! But it was a love yet to be explored, full of unknown aspects and the probable bumpy path ahead!! It was scary. 

On that day of your grand (not-so-much) entrée, it was raining. The air was damp & heavy. A cold breeze was going around; causing shivers of the kind that could make one feel nostalgic for no reason. ..There you were, with mud in your footprint as you walked in for the first-ever time to that shabby dormitory hall through that blue big, front door, with an expression that could only match that of Alice spiraling down the rabbit hole! One look and I knew you were someone who was feeling exactly as I was. Thrilled to be amidst so many possibilities yet scared of the unknown….then…

Has it really been more than 11 yrs?? My God!! 11 long years. Here I am, typing away reminiscences of days gone by, sitting in a place thousands of miles away, in the hopes of finding my way back to myself that I have lost somewhere along the way through my all-consuming feelings for something I had to let go. Life!!

This morning, I was wishing I was a robot with erasable memory, so I could fast forward this love-is-a-bitch phase and move the F on already; ?but right now, if I actually was a robot, I would opt to keep all the data intact. Because who will I be without my memories.

Let me know if you would like me to keep going back and tell you all about it, better yet if you would like to join me.

Okay? Okay. Riverdale is still paused. Hot Archie will have to wait. Because I am going out to buy some..I don’t know… what goes the best with freshly baked breads. Pasta and hot sauce may be. I will see you soon.

One thought on “The 2nd letter to Priyami Dutta; 19th March 2019

  • It’s you. Gotta be you.. None can write so well! Not that I know. You can never be a whining Zombie. Never! Waiting eargerly for your next write-up.
    Your lost buddy!

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