Dear Bala from the Future,
We love letters.
We’ve always had this romantic soft spot for long passages, neatly written and addressed to our name. However, we’ve never got any such letters, cuz there isn’t anyone in our life that we can write to, or that can write to us.
That’s when I thought, well hey, why not write to each other?
So, first things first.
How are you? You’re twenty seven right now. Exactly five years from when I’m writing this.
I know so much must’ve happened ever since. So many big decisions would’ve been taken. New people must’ve come into your life. The old might’ve left. Some would’ve stayed. Watch out for those who stay.
Right now, everything’s a blur. But I just hope you’re smiling with gratitude for all the tough lessons I’m holding on to, and the tougher ones I’m letting go of.
Do not worry about me. I’m good.
Even as the gut wrenching pain from all the decisions I’ve made so far are hitting me right into my chest, I’m good. Even as I watch people come and leave, as I get heart broken, disappointed, hopeless and emotionally assaulted, I’m surviving.
This is a little awkward for me, because I do not know how to picture you. All that I can hope is that you’re alive, and healthy and just as glamourous. For some reason, I cannot picture you with messy hair, dull face and old ragged clothes. It’s just not you. We’ve had a sense of style, right from when we were little, and I hope you’ve aged gracefully.
As hard as this might be for me, I’m sure you can very easily picture me right now. This is the younger you. The twenty two year old you.
This is the girl, with a pulled up pony tail, a peach colored Kurta and black velvet leggings – weighing fifty kgs, and sitting in front of her computer at Opal-D, room number 158. There’s a pink mug of steaming tea, and it’s past ten p.m. You can’t wait to finish writing this post, and go to bed. You love sleeping. You believe sleeping and music is the best therapy that there is.
The room-mates Swathi and Shriya are out, and you’re sitting alone. Taylor Swift’s Today Was a Fairy Tale is playing, and next on the playlist is Thalli Pogathey, from AYM. This is us, when we’re worrying if we’ll be able to make it to the Nenjey Ezhu Concert at Madurai.
See? I told you. It’s easy for you to picture me.
You see it. The sudden bursts of emotions, anger and frustration. The stressed out frown on my face. The fits of rage. The fear. The hopes. The wishes. The tears. And the heartbreaks.
The hot-headed, stubborn, ego-fuelled girl, who snaps and cuts mercilessly at people she does not think she deserves with condescending words and raw burning emotions. This is the girl who believes in dreams.
Eveything’s playing back in your mind right now. You see it all.
You see the rough patches, the grey areas, and you see through all the blur that’s blinding me.
From here however, all that I can see is that we’re about to make certain very risky and very unreliable decisions. I can see how there’s going to be a monumental difference between the two of us. I hope you’re able remember the hell lot of struggle that I silently suffered in. And that you’re proud of me for making through it all, coming out stronger, smarter and more self-aware. Right now, everything’s a mess. But the distance between you and me is where we figure it all out.
I hope you’re proud to have me as your past.
I am proud of you already. I mean, with all the stupid mistakes I’ve made, and am yet to make, I’m sure you’re wise, patient and ever so at peace with yourself. Funnily enough, me being on a roller coaster right now, is only going to make you a lot more composed.
Enough with all the rants. The main reason I’m writing this letter to you is, this. I have a few questions for you.
- Are you happy?
- Are you still writing?
- Have you finally got an elephant? Or at least taken a ride in one?
- What’s the stupidest and craziest thing you’ve done, since I’ve written this letter to you?
- Did you get sick or get into any fatal accident of sorts?
- Do you still get nightmares? The ones with the lions, and the ancient abandoned temples? The ones with one of your best mates getting possessed? I hope the bad dreams have stopped.
- Do I embarrass you? Do people come up to you, and be like, ‘Hey, remember how five years ago, you used to be like….’, and you wish you could simply invent a time machine and come back to kill me?
- What’s the coolest thing that’s happening in the world right now that you think I’d be excited to know about?
- Did A.R.Rahman release a new album?
- What’s your biggest fear?
- Do you wish I knew something right now, as I’m writing this letter? Something currently going on in my life – a secret plot twist or a hidden surprise, that I do not know yet, but you know and wish there was a way you could tell me?
- Tell me about Michael.
- How’s Sibi?
- Are mom and dad still worried about your health?
- Tell me more about Michael.
Future Bala, as I’m writing this, I realize that the most powerful thing you’re showing me is the endless list of possibilities that are ahead of us.
I can’t wait to meet you.
Twenty Two Years Old.
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