The Girl and the Diamond

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who was very sad. All her friends wore pretty dresses and looked like princesses, but whatever she might wear, she always looked ugly. Everybody would stare at her and talk in whispers when she walked by them. She wouldn’t turn to look but she knew it in her heart that they were laughing at her after she had passed by. She would ask her mother, “Mother, why am I not beautiful like you?” Her mother would reply in surprise, “But you are so beautiful, my dear.” “Why can’t I see it then?” she would ask. And the mother would smile knowingly and say, “… because you’re choosing not to.”

The little girl would only get confused, turn to the mirror and try to see where the beauty that her mother could see, lay. She smiled to see if she looked pretty when she smiled. She frowned to see if she looked pretty when she frowned. She cried to see if she looked pretty when she cried. And then, she cried and cried and cried for she didn’t look pretty whatever she might do. In the middle of all the crying, she didn’t realize when she had fallen asleep. She never came to know that all the tears which had fallen off her eyes were going to do something magical for her…

When she awoke and opened her sad eyes, her vision was blinded by something that lay next to her pillow – something that dazzled like a full moon. Slowly she sat up and took a close look at this magical object. When she touched it, it felt as though she had touched cool water. She felt a balm-like sensation run through the very bones of her body. It was a Diamond. A breathtakingly beautiful heart-shaped Diamond of the size of a heart. It felt so precious, more precious than anything she had ever owned in her lifetime.

As she stood in front of the mirror with the Diamond around her neck, she felt what she had never felt before. The Diamond shone like a star and when its light fell on her cheeks, it made them look like porcelain. They reflected the light to her eyes turning them into little Diamonds themselves, making her whole face come alive like a painting. She smiled and saw that she looked prettier than she had ever felt. She frowned and suddenly, the light went off her face, and she was again ugly as ever. Shocked, she broke into tears and the light was back. Her Diamond shone the brightest when she cried and she paused in the middle just to see how beautiful she looked as streams of tears rolled down her cheeks.

That day onwards, her life changed. The huge Diamond hanging from her neck made her feel like she was the most beautiful girl in the world. It touched her heart every now and then, tickling it, making her laugh and feel so desirable. When people looked at her, they were awestruck, for they had never seen such radiance, such absolute perfection on a countenance. When they whispered, she knew they were discussing her charm. When they pointed her out to others, it was only because words had deserted them. She was having the best time of her life. The Diamond made her complete and she was so grateful to it for that, “Thank you Diamond! I love you too!”

One morning, when she woke up, the back of her neck and her shoulders throbbed with pain – such that she had never known before. For long, she had been ignoring the subtle signs of imminent problems. When a sudden pain would shoot through her neck, she would make herself believe that she had slept in the wrong posture. When her shoulders would become stiff, she would think, “Oh, it’s been so long since I got them massaged.” But today, the pain, the stiffness wouldn’t go. She was in extreme agony.

And yet, she wouldn’t take the Diamond off herself, for it was all she had. “It has given me so much. It has turned the world around for me. I can’t let it go. I can’t leave my Diamond.” So, on she went with the Diamond still around her neck, but slowly, the sensation of exhilaration that it had brought had been overtaken by the overbearing pain in her neck.

“It has given me a lot. I can’t let it go” she would kiss it every night before she went to sleep, hoping that the agony would be a little lesser the next day. But it only increased with each passing day.

“At least it makes me look pretty” she would smile and think, but somewhere deep within her, the pain was churning out rivers of tears – tears which she wouldn’t acknowledge, tears which she never showed the way out to.

One day, she realized that it had been months since she had looked at herself in the mirror. As the thought gripped her, she ran to the mirror, her neck feeling like it would fall off any minute. When she paused to look into the mirror, the light from the Diamond blinded her. But gradually, as her face emerged from behind the dazzle, she saw a pale frail face with eyes that looked like stones. The Diamond still shone just as brilliantly, but her skin had stopped reflecting its light. Her shoulders were drooping and her neck was a disturbing red in colour. In that moment, the tears inside her found their way out and flowed like they would never stop flowing… “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” she kept saying, not knowing whether she was saying it to the Diamond or herself.

Exhausted, she sat on her bed and slowly, almost like a ritual, took the Diamond off her neck. Even as the pain lifted from her neck, a huge weight set in on her heart. She took the Diamond in her hands looking at it forever, she kissed it and as she did that, a tear drop fell on the Diamond. The spot where it fell turned into a tear and gradually, the whole Diamond became a blob of tears and flowed out of her hands. She howled to see what she had done to the Diamond, even though deep within her, she knew that it was her very own tears which had turned into the Diamond that night long ago.

“I’m sorry” she cried out aloud. Only, this time, she knew that she meant it for the Diamond.

Two Friends and a Foe

Throughout my conscious memory, I have been best friends with Pa. Sometimes, or in fact many times, I like to spend a few fascinating moments with Fut as well, but Pres has predominantly been like that random student in class who you know by their Name and probably their Roll Number, and just sometimes might want to peep into their tiffin box to know what they’ve got for lunch, but besides that, you pretty much like to be unaware of their existence. Pres was never my friend. I just couldn’t get myself to like Pres.

When I used to be with Pa (and most of the times I was), even the painful moments spent around Pres once upon a time would make me nostalgic with their sepia-toned charm. The days when Pres saw me being ragged up to my skin in the first year, or the time when I had walked down the empty lonely lanes of the sleeping town with the shadow of Pres, even those countless days when Pres had been cruel enough to cause my unrequited love to overflow from my heart through my eyes – all those days would become my haven when I was with Pa – a haven that I felt no desire to leave. Pa was truly my best friend. Crying came easy with Pa around… and Pa was generally around.

Not always though… for sometimes, Fut would hold my hand and take me away from Pa to a land where the night-sky was full of brilliantly bright stars – stars that Fut promised were meant for me, stars that were waiting to fall into my lap and make me radiant and blessed. Fut would show me birds of mesmerizing colours across the horizon, flying… free… In Fut’s land, there were mirrors everywhere, which reflected nothing except the most beautiful image of the world, and in some strange way, even though I knew it was impossible, I felt that image was mine. Fut was my Promise-friend, and Fut was perfect, just like that image in the mirror that was ME even though it couldn’t have been ME.

Which brings us to Pres. I hated Pres – not so much in the beginning, but over the years, I was filled with absolute hatred for Pres right up till my bones. Wherever I went, Pres would come after me. Whatever I did, Pres would be lurking around. Even when I was doing my own thing with Pa or Fut, Pres’ shadow was never too far away. I don’t know whether Pres was obsessed with me or the other way round but it was because of Pres that I sought for a perfect image in a mirror elsewhere, for it was Pres who made me feel absolute worthlessness in my own existence. I hated Pres! Oh! What wouldn’t I give to have Pres killed! I could have chosen to be the murderer myself, I even did once, only I developed cold feet when I realized that as a part of my punishment to kill Pres, I might have to lose Pa and Fut too, and they were all I had. And so, the stalker lived on…

And then…

One day, not too long ago, Pres came up to me… and said, “Please don’t hate me. I haven’t meant to haunt you all these years. I have only been looking out for you, to make sure that you do not get too lost in the streams of tears that Pa brings you or too trapped in the strings of dreams that Fut shows you, for once you’re lost with Pa, you’re lost forever… And once you’ve been trapped away from me by Fut, your dreams will remain only that – dreams. I would always let you see a hint of my shadow around you for I wanted you to remember me and hence, yourself. I always wanted you to see the real YOU, and not the imaginary one that you see in Fut’s fake mirrors, and I knew that only I could help you see that. Now, the time has come when you must do that and face your truth. I want you to see that image that is really YOU. So, will you please…”

And Pres paused for a seemingly endless moment as I stood breathless, waiting for the words that were going to change my world…

“… look into my eyes?”

As I looked hard, I saw an image slowly forming up out of the still waters of Pres’ clear dark eyes. Gradually, it became as vivid as my own flesh, and I couldn’t believe what I saw! I had been wrong all along. Fut’s mirrors had not been showing me the most beautiful image of the world, for if that had been perfection, then what was this? Or had perfection been perfected?

“This is YOU, my dearest. And YOU are perfect! All you need to do is accept it… Pa and Fut can bring you reveries and trances, even though they have to rely on ME to create those for you, but only I will show you the real YOU and it is only if you like ME that you will be able to like yourself, for among the three of us, I am the only one who wants you to be happy TODAY, for among the three of us, I am the only one who LOVES you – I always have, I always will, until death – for the day you die, I shall too.”

Before I acknowledged the tears flowing out of my eyes, before I acknowledged that the image in Pres’ eyes was really me, I heard myself say to him, “I love you. I’m so sorry for the way I have treated you. I was horribly wrong. You deserve so much better than what I gave you. Please forgive me Pres. I love you…”

Pa and Fut are still my friends, of course. They have their own indisputable places in my life and always will, for Pa helps me rediscover my love with Pres all the more and Fut helps me hone the perfection of my love with Pres. Love, after all, cannot be a static entity. Just like life, love has to be dynamic too!

And that’s why, each day, I discover newer things to love about Pres. Each day, the reflection I see in his eyes seems more perfect than the previous day. Each day, I love myself… a little more!

Thank you, Pres! I love you… I love myself…

A Tale of Four Rakhis - 4

A Tale of Four Rakhis - 1

A Tale of Four Rakhis - 2

A Tale of Four Rakhis - 3

I haven’t met Amu, my Bua’s son, for almost a decade now. We did exchange emails and talked over the phone, once in a while, until last year.

And then, when I announced THE decision to everybody, he stopped corresponding. His wife would write to me sometimes and tell me that Amu has been keeping very busy, but that he supports my decision. She wrote twice, he never wrote… For months. Even after the biggest day, when almost everyone in the family called me or wrote to me, Amu didn’t.

And I knew what was going on. Vira and he had always been mirror images of each other. Actually, I think it’s a thing about Men in general. It’s hard for them to see the inside before the outside. I’m not saying it’s impossible. I’m saying they need time… and well, honestly, I’m in no hurry.

But Amu surprised me four months back. He stopped being Vira’s mirror image! He wrote to me – an email as beautiful as there can be – and not only did he apologize for being late in writing to me (he said he wanted to do justice to his thoughts and never had time enough to do that), but in fact, asked me to send him a Rakhi by all means… His closing line made my day – ‘Love you little sis’!

So, 10 days ago, when my favouritest aunt was saying to me, “That’s very expensive, Monu! It makes no sense to spend so much! Besides, in the US, they hardly know the dates of festivals and all. The day it reaches him, he will tie it… I think it is foolish to spend such a big amount on this!” because the courier guy was charging 1150 rupees for it, I decided not to argue with her. I lied to her that I would send the envelope by normal post the next day. I decided not to tell her that even if it had been 11500 rupees or more, I wouldn’t have thought twice. I had got late in sending it for various reasons, but they didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered, except for the fact that I had to ensure Amu got the Rakhi before Aug 16!

The only option was to wait for 2 more days and send the courier when I had my own money, although that meant that the delivery would happen either just on the 16^th, or a day later. I was feeling inexplicably horrible!

The next morning, when I was leaving for work, my favouritest aunt placed 1500 rupees in my palm. “If you’re convinced with what I said, then you won’t use it, but if you’re not, which I know you’re not, then you’ll definitely send the courier later. So, it’s better that you send it today, and at least achieve the purpose… I would still say it’s a humungous waste of money, but the choice is yours”.

I smiled at her. She knew what I was going to do. I hugged her. She hugged me back.

Aug 16. I kept checking my Inbox through the day, hoping to see an email from Amu, hoping to read that he did get it in time after all. I was doubtful about him writing because it was a Saturday. He never checks or writes mails on weekends. The entire day went by. As I feared, there was no mail from him…

As I was going to bed, a little before midnight, I checked mail one last time… and there it was! His three-liner email, written from his blackberry, saying that he had received my Rakhi on the 15th.

~~~~~~~~~~

Whatever the relationship, it is the little things that matter. To me, if Amu had not got the Rakhi by the 16^th, it would have lost its worth. Yes, love and relationships are not about ONE day, but then, if there IS one day to celebrate it specifically, then either you don’t value the day at all, or you live by it thoroughly. It can’t be about convenience then; it HAS to be about the day.

So, all said and done, this Rakhi, for me, was about buying Rakhis! The next one would hopefully be about tying Rakhis too! :-)

G........D

I should have been irked, but I smirked.
I should have got mad, but I was glad.
You would have sure lost it, if not forced it.
I should have been riled, but I smiled.

I could have been miffed, but It was a gift.
I could have made a face, but I loved the phrase.
You would have no sense, of how much it meant.
I could have sure told you, but for this cold you!

Love... Actually

I am thankless when I get irritated on seeing Your SMS, just because I am waiting for someone else’s.
I am thankful that Your SMS asks, “Have you reached safely?”, and that Your life depends on the answer to that question.


I am thankless when I get angry if You ask me to switch off the computer since its light disturbs your sleep.
I am thankful for the innumerable nights You’ve spent awake just because I couldn’t sleep.


I am thankless every time I’m in awe of someone with a bigger house, a bigger car, or a bigger wardrobe.
I am thankful that when I need it the most, Your arms have the biggest hug to give me.


I am thankless when I label every little question of Yours unnecessary and extremely insignificant.
I am thankful that everyday, I come back to a home where Somebody eagerly waits to hear answers from me to little-little, unnecessary, insignificant questions.


I am thankless when I yell at You and tell You that You can’t stand up for me because You couldn’t tell someone my truth.
I am thankful that You not only faced and braved my truth, but have made it Your own truth too.


I am thankless every time I vent my entire day’s frustration on You, and hate You when You do that to me.
I am thankful that You rarely do the latter, and that You rarely miss doing the former.


I am thankless when I throw a fit and make Your life hell because I’ve had a break-up.
I am thankful that You will never ever break-up with me, that leaving me is not even the last option in Your life.


I am thankless to not remember often that even though You never say to me that You love me, there is nobody in the world who loves me as completely, as selflessly, and as unconditionally… as You.
Need I say what I am thankful for?


I am thankless to You on most days of my life.
I am thankful that I’m not, on this day.


I am thankless, I think, because I am not a Parent.
I am thankful, though, that I am and will always be Your child...