Tuesday, July 03, 2007

To Uncle..with love

This was an exercise I attempted on a forum.
Two letters, one sweet, sugar coated and other bitter, sour grapes, all for the greedy intentions of usurping the wealth from a rich, dying uncle.

Dearest Uncle Moron,

Guess what, uncle? Today, while I was relishing the taste of kheema Pav, my thought rested on the memories of you. How are you, uncle? Actually, often I think of you, especially during this feast of kheema Pav, that brings back all those treasured moments of you. I am so grateful to you for those colorful, enriching hours of sunshine that we have shared together. Do you remember, how we would go to those narrow, snaky lanes off Crawford market road, that were infested with flies and pollutions, where the streets were full of laborers and shoppers looking for a good bargain, you would take me there to that one particular stall, the one on the wheels, you would say that it was your favorite spot, because they cooked the most delicious, spicy Kheema? Do you remember the day when you had asked me not to tell mommy about that unhygienic feast, when I took to bed with Malaria for next seven days and you had to bribe me with that cute, little doll, with light brown eyes that went blink, blink? Ah! I still remember all the details. Those memories are so fresh in my mind that they refuse to go away. Oooh! Those good ole days!

You were my best uncle, always pampering me. I remember how you would carry me, piggy ride on your shoulder, and I would tickle your neck and you would almost lose your balance, and one day, your left foot crossed over a carelessly strewn boots and we both fell down and you laughed merrily calling me ‘sissy’ when the tears welled up in my eyes, also those lovely poems that you would teach me? What a lovely voice you had, I would close my eyes to feel the rhythm of those musical tunes. I remember all the poems till today and I often sing them to my children, Rahul and Pooja. Many nights when they are too stubborn to go to sleep, instead of reading a book, I relate to them the stories about your adventures to those exotic places that you would visit; get drunk with the locals and had to be carried to your hotel room. They get so amused hearing about your long funky hair and those one dozen gold chains around your neck, they have been so eager to meet you.

Uncle, I am so sorry to hear about your frail health. I lay tossing in bed all night, worrying about you. I am sure it must be quite difficult for you. It is pity that we have not been in touch for such a long time. It is almost ten years since I last saw you. Same story of every woman! After marriage we have to go where our destiny takes us and then we get entangled in the rut of life. I have missed you so much! Had you not pestered my husband, Akil, about returning your hundred thousand dollars loans, he would never have insisted on my breaking my ties with you. I am sure we would never have migrated to a place where you could not find us.

But, don’t you worry. I will take care of you. I will bring Akil and children too. You can finally spend some peaceful days, enjoying the innocence and playfulness of Rahul and Pooja. I know I can bring you back to good health by cooking for you all the food that you enjoy. You can send me four air-plane tickets immediately and two thousand dollars to buy for you some gift too.

You can relax, then, I will be there for you…forever!

Your favorite niece

your Titlie

Uncle Moron,

Everyday I see a postman from my window, I run downstairs, barefoot, almost begging him, hoping that he will have a mail for me. Sometimes I wait for Fed Ex and other times for a DHL and sometimes I shout through the letterboxes. You don't realize just how exhausting it is chasing mail-men all the time. 'Please,' they cry, 'leave us alone. Give us some dignity!' But damn it! Where is the mail? I am waiting for air tickets and money. Can’t you use those creepy, bony fingers of yours to write just a cheque of two thousand dollars, either? Huh?

Uncle you were always like that, stingy and selfish. Momma had always warned me about you. She had told me that you were just a swashbuckling, womanizing twit. I know you were kind and considerate to me, but that was because you wanted to please my momma. You were actually afraid of her because she was your wife’s best friend. She knew what you hid in your closets. Isn’t it? She knew about that whore, who visited you on Sundays, who painted her face with such thick cake of make-up, that her face showed cracks whenever she smiled. I believe she mothered your son too. Now, now, you wouldn’t want me to discuss that with anybody else, not now, that your one foot is almost touching the graveyard. Don't accuse me of vain glory. However, I am beginning to feel rather sorry for you. I didn’t expect you to make such drastic decisions at your age. What good the money is to those homes where you are planning to give away in charities? They will never hang your portrait in their vestibule with a sweet smelling flower garlands nor invest a penny on jasmine fragrant stick. No good, uncle, I say ya, no good! Believe me when I say that!

You are lucky that you have me, your niece, who cares so much for you. Tell you what. My bags are packed, and I have decided not to do any shopping for you, especially at your age, you may not even want me to waste any money on you. I will come next week, alone. Akil is willing to bring Rahul and Pooja later, when you decide to open your palms.

Don’t you worry, uncle. When I am here, there is nothing to fear. I tell ya, seriously, nothing to fear!

I enclose lots of hugs with this mail.

Shall wait no more for your mail because I am on my way

Your favorite niece…forever

Titlie

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