September 28, 2011

To Anoodha Kunnath

Squirrels that produced sudden chills. You christened them. Then there were alien babies who resembled lighthouses. And other flusterations who aspired for them. We spun threads of connects with chai, cold caramel drinks, foamies with a bit of coffee, a rich cake-that-must-not-be-named so that they always remain just ours, and loads of Kellogs Smacks and Parle-G biscuits.

In camphor and incense we spoke at length of yesterdays and today(sometimes 'todays'; for it really couldn't have all happened in one day!) and of the maybe-tomorrows. Mostly the maybe-tomorrows haunted us. And like sister souls ought to, we clung to one another's spirits and whispered that everything will pass and we will get stronger. Sometimes we paused mid-sentence and questioned why we needed to get stronger?! Sometimes, we cried. Mostly, we laughed.

In my background was an audible, yet faint, music that put me in a trance, sometimes. I clung to it. You helped me stick my hands on to its slippery surface.

In your background, was thunder and fierce storms. I shut your eyes and ears from them. Atleast, tried to.

When we had spoken it all, we sipped chai and watched the world slip by in a pace we couldn't comprehend. And as we bit into our chai-dipped soggy biscuits, like two old-fashioned English ladies, we accepted that this is what we always will be, and smiled.

1 comment

anoodha said...

I am touched Ramendran! I miss all these things terribly.Thank you for existing!!!!

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