Dating : I’m Sorry.

Dear Bhaiya,

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry not for anything that I’ve done.

I’m sorry for everything I haven’t.

I’m sorry while I wrote stories by the pond outside, you prepared quiz books for the Bournvita Quiz night.

I’m sorry while I hopped around the terrace pretending to field, you were trained to become the best cricketer there can ever be.

You cried so much after you lost.

Over dinner, we called you a sore loser.

I giggled, for I was always the best fielder!

I’m sorry you were so smart that you learned quickly that branded clothes are what rich people do!

When we pranked you with an Otto Burlingtons Bag with old clothes your heart broke, you were so close to going to school, playing that very rich card.

We laughed, we imitated your short-lived jubilance for days, when you ran around the house with the Burlington’s cart.

We imitated your face so well when you found old socks in it, for days and months. Ugh, we do it even now, when we’re supposedly old mature farts!

We cheered with pride when you became the School Head Boy.

The prizes were one too many for you to carry. We clicked pictures, sent them to family, even friends who lived afar.

We told me, I was the prettiest princess in the school play, but by now, I knew so well, I was a princess, even without any play.

I remember, in 6th grade, you didn’t get so many prizes. In 10th grade, you didn’t become the Head Boy, we called it the ‘Era of your decline’.

Do you remember, I was once a ‘Rakshas’ (demon) in a school play? Of course, from the stage, I giggled, waved at you all with a sweet smile!

You all said I was the prettiest princess in the school play, but I knew so well, I was a princess, even without any play!

Over our serious dinners of 4, we discussed how you need to get rich, maybe get featured in that Limca Book of World Records that sat on our dusty book rack.

I interrupted gently, I said, ‘Guys! I’m bored!’ So we talked about how Garima broke my heart, how Swarnam was a bully, we should all save me from her. We couldn’t ever bear me falling apart.

We tccch tccch’d when you couldn’t remember the capital of Kazakhstan. But, funnily, when you cheated, we quickly called you a cheater, a liar.

Thank god, you were so smart- you just built a robotic memory, the slickest ways I’ve ever seen of cheating. For all my goody-two-shoes, you know, I was enamoured, awe-struck by your fraudulent art!

I remember soon after the National Award for swimming, you decided you’re going to stop swimming. Your friends called you, ‘Kaaloo’ (a mean name for a dark-boy)in school. You hated those afternoon swim lessons, pools with frogs, that tan that further darkened your skin.

We scolded, chided, called you a ‘panzy’, you’re just wasting your life! You had to hide your fairness creams, so no one would call you those names ever again.

I didn’t hear the rest of what we said to you.

I snuck out by the pond outside teaching an imaginary class of five.

You came out crying, you asked me what I was doing.

I said, ‘Let’s give names to all the fish in our pond?’

Did we call two Narsimha and Rao?

We laughed, we pushed each other in, pulled in Blitz in who swam like a duck.

We laughed so hard!

I’m sorry you had Sanskrit exams to write when I went to interview for my fancy boarding school. I don’t know if I told you, I told stories about Chi-Chi and me, to a very serious panel of 10.

I think one of them even cried?

I thought it made sense you were home and I was sent to boarding school; the only way you could make money was if we could focus on you.

I stayed safe in a boarding school, reading books, writing stories, dancing, doing things that nourished my heart.

I remember one Diwali, I hand-drew 16 cards for everyone in the Jaipur house. Bauji (grandfather) who never smiled said, I’m just like my name, ‘an angel’.

I smiled, I told Mom-Dad about it. They said with pride, he was absolutely right.

That night after you sang, ‘Tum Mile’ at our Diwali party, Bauji announced all the grades you got. Everyone clapped. We said, Wow! Now that’s a young man so bright! You should become an IAS Officer!

No no, doctor, someone said. Dentist, you said. They make a shit-load of money, don’t work those extra hours.

I’m sorry when you split up with your wife, we called you a selfish, cheater. ‘What a stupid, heartless guy!’

For me, we said, she always listens to the voice within, she just follows her heart.

Last night, I didn’t get on that family call, because my heart weeps when we do these.

It weeps for the way your tender heart seeks to connect- but, what you say is, ‘My Global CEO wants to already give me a raise. Let’s do a partnership with TFI or Master card?’

I am just sorry for so much.

I’m sorry we never heard you, never healed you, never held your hand, never loved the little boy inside you so hard.

Today, I want to love you for all those years when I was the princess and you were finding ways to be the richest, finally, show to the world how you’re really beneath it all, a real star!

For, today, I’m just sorry. I love you.

Love,

Me