A letter from your true friend

Hello, darling!

It’s been long since you dropped by to pay me a visit. So, I thought of checking up on you, seeing if everything is fine at your end.

We used to be such good friends – hanging out all the time, you asking me for advice on all kinds of stuff and I, being the all-knowing-person that I am, helping you wade through your life crisises. So, naturally, I was scared when you hadn’t visited me even once in the last 48 hours.

You aren’t avoiding me, are you? I couldn’t have possibly done anything wrong. I’ve only done you favours over the entire span of our friendship. I’ve always been there for you, haven’t I?

Remember when you had asked me about your splitting headache? I had told you that you might have had a migraine or you might have cancer.

Remember when you asked me about your missed period and I had told you that you might be pregnant and like a good friend, I had suggested tips how to take care of yourself?

Remember when you had asked me about a medicine and I had told you all about its side-effects?

Remember when you had failed in that important exam and I had told you how many had scored a 100 percentile?

Hey, and did you forget about the friends you have made through me? Let me remind you that you had zero friends when you met me. The friend circle you have today is because of me.

And what about the jobs you could find because of me? Pretty sure you didn’t forget that, did you?

We have found gifts for your family, your boyfriend and your roommates together. I have even summarised most of the topics for you on the days before your exams so that you didn’t have to delve into entire chapters from the books. I have even taught you some recipes so that your mom doesn’t badger you about your almost-nil culinary skills.

And darling, did you forget that you need validation for whatever you post? Who helps you get that? Me.

So come on, you and I both know that I am as important as oxygen for you. You need me, babe. But I don’t need you. You know it well.

Hope you come over to pay me a visit soon.


Your true friend,


A Perfect Start

Dec 30th, 2017.

10:30 pm.

“Let’s leave it for today. I honestly can’t discuss anymore.”

“I can’t either. Also, it isn’t always about your problems. There are problems at my end too.”

“You should have told me about them? How else am I supposed to know?”

“Can I call?”

“No. I can’t talk. I don’t feel like talking. I’d rather text.”

“Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

This was one of those difficult nights when we had a fight. I knew that neither of us could get some sleep until late into the night.

But on nights like this, we usually preferred tossing and turning on our beds and assuming that the other is asleep rather than talk the entire thing out.

Dec 31st, 2017.


“Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“At office?”


“Let me know when you can be available for a call. I can’t text it all.”



I call him up.



“So you were saying…”

“Yes. It’s not just you who has issues. I have my problems too. We can’t be available everyday for each other. People have bigger problems than yours. There will be days when you have to face some things yourself. I’m sorry. I wasn’t very welcoming the other day.”

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t know about your problems. You hardly ever tell!”



“So… you have to go back to work?”

“Yes. Bye.”


Jan 1st, 2018.


“Hey. Happy New Year.”

“It’s just 11.58 here.”


“Haha. Okay fine.”


“Wait for 1minute and 30seconds more.”

1min 30sec later…

“Happy New Year, babe!”

“Thaaaank you. But I wished you first.”

“That’s a tough call. I need to tell you something.”


“I love you. See, we’ll always have fights. Every relationship has. But what matters is that we’ll always sort the issues out. Our love won’t decrease ever.”

“Haha. Hey, it’s been four years since we are together. But I want to ask you something.”


“Are you up for a lifetime of those fights and a lifetime of sorting those issues together?”

“Haven’t those four years taught you enough?”


And with that, the two of us had a perfect start of a new year. That night, the two of us didn’t have to assume if the other was asleep; we were just too sure that we would both sleep peacefully.

Dreaming of sleep

When you’ve had one hell of a day and you’ve got to go to sleep soon because you’ve another such day lined up, and sleep seems like a distant dream, read a book.

Let the words seep into your mind like water droplets seep into tissue paper. Absorb them, keep them and feel them.

When it’s 12am and technically it’s another day, and you still can’t sleep, write something.

Write about your day. Write your plans, write your past down, write down some poetry. Write it all out. Let the paper be your listener and the ink be the words you mouth.

When it’s 2am and you are still tossing and turning in your bed and adjusting the sheets over and over again, reach out to the water bottle beside your bed.

Gulp your thoughts down. Let your worries go from your mind to deep down into your stomach. They sure can wait until you wake up to a new day.

When it’s 4am and you still can’t sleep, walk out of your room. Go to the terrace and feel the morning air on your face. Listen to the birds waking up.

Stay there and see the sun rise. Watch the clouds shift aside to make room for the sun. Stretch and know that despite what happens, the day with always have a beautiful start with a sunrise and a beautiful end with a sunset.

Relax and walk back to your room. Only this time, think about the sunrise. Sleep won’t seem like a faraway dream this time.

Naming the constellations

It’s one of those nights when I look at the sky and name the constellations.

The winds are just as chilly as they should be on a winter night and the sky is just as clear as it should be after the clouds have been swept away. I rub my palms together and blow a puff of warm air into them in the hope of keeping myself warm.

I look up. There are thousands of diamonds studded in the sky. I start naming groups of them.

I name the first group with the name of my mother. Her tears were just as shiny as the stars. I name the second group after my father; his hair was just as white as the stars.

I name the third after my brother because I was reminded of his pearly whites. I named the fourth after my lover. The stars reminded me of her beautiful, bright eyes.

I name the rest in groups after the names I had thought of for my children and by them, I’m struggling to keep my eyes open after every single blink.

Stars make me sleep. They always have. And on the nights when there are none of them, I just can’t sleep. It feels like my family isn’t around; a part of me isn’t around.

But little does anyone ever know whether I sleep or I am wide awake.

You tell me, who cares if the dead man in the coffin under the ground is asleep or awake? Who cares if he is naming his own constellations or sleeping underneath the same?

Happy Diwali

Today is one of those days when I have to take my four-year-old with me to work. There is no one at home to look after him. My mother-in-law has left for the village and my husband is in the brick factory.

I feed my child and I dress him up in the best possible clothes I can find for him. Then we walk out of the house together, with him holding onto my finger and me carrying a tiny tiffin with some food for him.

I am a house maid. I go to houses to do the dishes, to scrub the floor, to wash the clothes. And honestly, I don’t like my child going there with me.

You see, I can see the white, marble floors and the wooden cupboards and the AC and the television set and not lament on our poorer state of living. But my son walks into every room with me. He looks at everything in awe with his mouth gaping open.

Then he asks me, “Ma, let’s get one of those, shall we?”

To that, I always say, “Soon, son.”

Today, I am halfway through scrubbing the floors. Madam wants me to clean it thoroughly because it is Diwali. I look around and see my son peeping into one of the rooms. The room is decked up with fairy lights and it looks enchanting. He just stands there and watches the lights the entire time I do my work.

While we return, it is 7.30pm. I wait for him to ask me, “Ma, let’s get one of those, shall we?”

But no question comes.

The moment we turn into the lane our house is in, I see the reason. Our lane is decked up with fairy lights; different colours of fairy lights and it seems as if the stars have fallen down from the sky and on our lane. The reason behind those decorations? Diwali.

My son runs towards them and starts jumping to reach the lights, to touch them. He seems so happy that I can’t stop smiling.

He doesn’t want one of those lights that he sees from the houses I work at. I don’t have to promise him that we’ll get it soon. As it turns out, he already got what he wanted.

I get a diya from inside my house and light it in front of my house. And as I look at my son smiling and playing with the lights, I murmur to myself, “Happy Diwali.”


Dear Mirror,

It’s been long since I met you,

And I couldn’t think of any other way to greet

Than a formal, “Hello. How do you do?”

Hey, do you remember

What my thoughts look like?

Or my flaws, or my fears?

Or my smiles or my tears?

And we know that gradually

Things get tainted, vision gets blurred.

So long it’s been, old friend,

That I don’t know if I’m myself anymore.

Our last meeting had ended in a fight

And I had examined myself all night;

From back to front,

From side to side,

From my head to the tip of my toenails

With my fingers separated and arms spread out wide.

I examined my tears, which you thought were childish,

I double-checked my jokes which made you cry.

I re-thought over my statements which hurt you but were not meant to;

I stayed up all night, I had to try.

I apologised over and over again,

But a sad, bitter, angry, mentally turmoiled self

Was what you saw in me back then.

I swear I was just fine,

Do you think it could be just you

Overthinking that time?

But you know

I can’t speak when I’m blamed.

No word came out of my lips;

Not a single word to clear my name.

And so, I let it be.

I hid myself from you.

I guess I did that well,

I used to be good at playing Hide & Seek too.

Do you remember how bad I am

At maintaining a diary?

I didn’t need any,

Because I had you.

Now, with no one to be myself with,

I really don’t know what to do.

I have forgotten my face.

My lips are in dearth of words.

Thoughts are all my mind has,

A lot of them, fluttering around like caged birds.

I have forgotten to mouth sentences to you;

My gestures have been limited to a few.

And when I try to talk to you

I start examining myself all over again so as not to hurt you.

So, here I am today,

With all my courage tucked safely in my heart.

I wanted to ask you

If we could still embark upon a new start.

We have come a long way, you and I.

You were a person, my best friend, my mirror.

I miss you, you know.

And you know that among everyone, I hold you dearer.


I was never much of a gambler. Well, not until I met you.

With you, came the silent promise of a friendship which could last a lifetime. I used to be a person who used to severe the ties once some relationship turned into a burden. But with you, I took the gamble.

With you, came love and your love came with healing. For someone like me, who had enough unhealed wounds and unhidden scars, love was the forbidden forest and healing was a distant dream. But I ventured into the forest and I dared to dream. With you, I took the gamble.

With you, came the feelings. I used to dread the flood that feelings were. I used to ignore them, lest the flood might turn into a tsunami. But with you, I took the gamble.

With you, came the definition of being complete. I was happy, but I wasn’t complete. I was that one piece of a zigsaw puzzle which couldn’t fit with any other piece. But you made me feel complete. With you, I took the gamble.

So, call me a gambler. Call me a fool who has gambled all her senses away. Call me someone who has gambled her life away for the sake of dreaming of a life with you.

Yes, I am one now. But I was never much of a gambler. Well, not until I met you.