FranKophone

Dear You, It’s been really long since I wrote to you. A long while since I intently noticed you. You still look so perfect. Makes me fall in love with you all over again. It seems you have not changed at all. Except for those random greys and a little wrinkle there. It’s a delight to watch you fall asleep. Calm. Quiet. Sound of your breath. Scent of jasmine floating in the air. The arms that are always open for me. The comfort of being with each other. As for me, I know I am beautiful. Even without eyes. You make me feel beautiful. Yours truly, Me.

   On the streets of the old bazaar, there sat a man  in rags. Every time I passed by , he smiled and looked away. Neither was he handsome nor was he wealthy. Still I thought about him. Why would anyone wait on streets for years together ?  I  had seen him there since I was a kid. An autumn morning , I heard he passed away. On the street. No one heard his  dying words. No one offered him gangaja l or  tulsi . He died unmourned , un-noticed. The bazaar still smelt of spices and perfume. Years later, I heard his story. From an antique woman. In his prime, the man was a successful merchant. He had a comfortable home and a lovely wife. One  morning, his wife was on her way to the temple on the hillock. A raging earthquake hit the city and razed the hillock to ground. The lovely wife was lost, never to be found. May be she had died , buried under the rubble. The merchant  never lost hope. Gradually he began to live on the street, hoping t...

  We had innumerable chance meetings ever since I was born. And always you made an impression. Of being the best I had ever seen. Some seven years ago, when I first came to live with you, it was quite an incident. Moving ( or even uprooting ) myself from a well-settled hometown life, I wanted to take a chance. With you. I wanted to grow with you. You were older and wiser. I was young, nubile and naïve. Wisdom is certainly not expected of normal teenagers. And me – someone who had dreams, ambitions, expectations, aspirations – a tad bit higher. Our first few days – adjustments, awesomeness and sometimes, utter helplessness – it all sounds so hilarious today. Then we kind of a liked each other. You began to grow on me. I had made tiny impressions on you. I ran alongwith you. I thought I could beat you. You weren’t the ultimate ( you still aren’t the one ) but a de tour , maybe for a couple of years.     You had other plans. Certainly. After the initial euphoria, came the ...

Remember our first date ? I walked to you in that lilac dress – with apprehension. You later told me that you fell for me then. I had noticed your jaw almost dropping  but never mentioned it to you. In one of our later dates, I caught you staring at that anorexic female with garish make-up. I was a fool then (Yes, I am a lot wiser now ). I tried to lose weight, use make-up. All proved futile. The next time we met you almost laughed at the sight of me. Visibly thinner, under inches of God-knows-what powdered on cheeks. Creepily lined eyes. After a few seconds, I realized you were laughing at me. I tried going away, crying. You stopped me. By that time, my eyes were streaming with tears. You looked straight into them and said “You do not need a mask . You’re beautiful.” I stopped crying. You hugged me. There were times you needed me. For telling how badly your Dad thinks of you. How you miss your Mom. I just listened. And yet you told me it comforted you. To be with me. And then on...