Dear Love,

You’re running a marathon on my mind, these days. I got beautiful messages from two of your friends, recently. One, sent me a message on your birthday telling me how you encouraged him in school and another one sent me a message on your death anniversary, telling me how you helped her after an accident. I’m always overwhelmed by your niceness and my chest swells up with pride, for knowing you. Between an angel and a Devil reincarnate, our parents managed to cover both ends of the spectrum.

Actually, you’re also a lucky bastard. I mean, I’m terrible, mujhe to do minute mein bhul jaygee duniya but you know where you got this from, your gentle heart? From our Mom. But shit man! the things they said about her when she died. Uff! People spoke about her, throughout her life and even when she went they didn’t spare her. To blame a woman for her past life, without having any recollection of your own, takes another kind of skill.

Why am I harping about this again? Well, you, lucky bastard, don’t ever have to worry about death anniversaries or what all that entails. I on the other hand, have the privilege of being the one who needs to sort shit out. So, here we are. I’m supposed to sit with a roomful of people, who will be there, to socialise, while some random fellow, who did not know our cutie pie, will be praying for her departed soul. Puke! Senseless rubbish.

You know, in the olden times, families wouldn’t celebrate any festivals for eleven months, after someone passed away. Seems a bit nuts, to me but they wouldn’t and this Varina was meant to be a kind of permission, a letting go ceremony, after which people would get back to business, as usual. But now, people have become more practical, they move on, quickly. Weddings only get cancelled if someone in the immediate family dies, while celebrations continue, unabashedly. Which is okay, I don’t think the soul gives a crap. The people who are grieving might but that’s totally each individual’s prerogative. So, what is the point of this drama! Plus, ek bat bata, even if the soul is going to benefit from your good intentions, I’m sure a good deed would trump, spectacles.

Of course, the Father is non committal, as usual, which leaves everything on moi. So, instead of deciding anything, I’m sitting at this hour cursing you. Akele, handling people is too mushkil, without you. I wish you could come down for a few days in a year. God should grant us four days a year, with the departed. Death should be like a break up. People should faze out, rather than disappearing, abruptly. Like you breakup, then you kind of hook up once in a while, then you get used to not being with that person all the time, eventually you get over it, when one person moves on. Leaving your body should be like that. It will be be easier on everyone. Crap, it’s almost two. Enough, for today. Kisses.