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Dearest Amma and Appa,
You know what I like best about you?
You make it easy for me to talk about stuff my friends would never discuss with their parents.
Appa, I still remember that long ago train journey when I told you about Adi. Instead of a lecture on how I was too young to date, you patted my back and said, “About time.” Honestly, I wished that you would be at least a little bit upset, so I could go tell him about how “I fought with my parents because I really care for you, Adi.”
Anyway, today’s letter is not because I found someone here. I didn’t. Not happening any time soon. It would be nice though. Being single has its perks but sometime you wish you had someone special to share the magic of the Universe with.
Like for instance, it was raining last week. All night long only thunder, lightning and blankets of rain in a continuous cascade. Everyone was asleep except for me. I sang all the rain songs in my repertoire (low volume, of course). Made half a dozen paper boats which never sailed (and were forgotten the next day). And made a list of all the special monsoon moments.
Remember that time in Kochi when there was a city-wide power shutdown. It was pouring cats, dogs and buffaloes. Amma had major ice-cream cravings so the three of us huddled a tiny purple umbrella walking along the bylanes of Fort Kochi and bullying the department store thambi to pull up the shutters just to buy three orange ice sticks.
Anyway, I finished the list and started crying. Because I missed you. These are the times when you really need a boyfriend. Not just to go watch movies and kiss in the rain. But to pat your back as you lean on their shoulder and cry on a dark, stormy night.
Also for other things like going to the movies, kissing in the rain and having heated arguments about silly things. When Adi and I were together, our biggest fights would be over food. The food would magically disappear into his belly even before it was served on the plate and then he’d start distracting me and stealing stuff from my plate. Idiot. But it was fun, especially because it’d end up with us pouring Pepsi and lemon soda over each other.
The other day in the village I saw a crinkly-old thatha feeding his wife. She kept pushing his hand away, but he didn’t give up. Sure, these things are rarer than blue moons, but it makes you wish you had at least half of the beautiful connection they shared. Someone sitting silently next to you solving the day’s Sudoku while you lie on their lap reading Harry Potter for the 78th time. Someone relishing the tomato rice you cooked for dinner even though you forgot to add salt to it. Someone to argue with on whether to watch Wimbledon or the World Cup. Someone to read you a bedtime story or sing you to sleep.
Now don’t get ideas and try hooking me up with Suri Uncle’s son. He’s sweet and all but not my type, ok? Also, long distance NEVER works. Just in case you still want to continue your man-hunt, ensure that he knows how to cook up a good plate of aloo bajjis. The rest of the curating I’ll take care.
By the way, you never told me about your romantic life! Only Amma shared her sob story about how the first movie you both went to was ‘Ramayana’. That too with a troop of your little nieces and nephews. Shame on you, Appa!
Confession: I stumbled upon a stack of letters that you wrote to each other when she was with Raipur Thatha-Pati (carrying me in her belly). It was cute how you detailed out the menu for your days in each letter. Amma’s letters had such varied yummy menus. Poor Appa! Daily curd rice and mango pickle.
All this romance talk is making me feel worse. Must make a list of things to do to make oneself happy. Maybe read Harry Potter for the 79th time. Or make funny faces in the mirror. There’s just one mirror here, that too in the common area. And I don’t feel like being around people today. So I’m going to hunt for a puddle and make funny faces into it.
Did you know that after all that staring at his reflection Narcissus finally turned into a flower? Pretty sweet ending, no? I would want to be a blue-and-yellow flower with 16 petals and a strong fragrance of monsoons.
On that flowery note, I go hunting for my puddle.
Yours always,
Maya
