Dear Urvashi,

I hope this letter finds you in amazing health and spirits, just like it left me. I'll be honest - I'm a bit drunk while writing this, so some of the stuff I say will probably make no sense. I hope you won't mind :)

When I got your last message (the one that was two weeks ago), I spent hours trying to come up with a cheeky reply. Hours! Being a writer means absolutely nothing when you're talking to a hot girl :D You go just as blank as any other guy randomly approaching a beautiful girl on the streets. And when you're texting her, there's that added pressure - that desperate urge to craft 'the' perfect message - one that is funny and witty and deep and meaningful - all at the same time! 

The urge to impress!

(Humans are funny, aren't they? We'll go to any lengths to impress others, wear any masks we have to, just to establish a connection with them. When in reality, forging true connection requires honesty. It requires vulnerability) 

Anyway, hours turned into days and I realized that perfect or not, I had to send something back! So, I did. When I didn't hear back from you for days, I started to get worried that - a) you've gotten bored and shut me off; and then b) you're in some terrible problem, most probably related to your father. When the second possibility struck me, I no longer gave any fucks about the first one. All I wanted to know if your dad was okay.

And right now, I'm very happy to hear that he is :)

My time has been amazing. Today, I spent the entire day in the park near my home. It's a cozy little community park, with lush green grass that smells of departing autumn and tall trees that sway in the chilly winter air. There are beautiful flower petals scattered all around, shed by the trees that once bore them, the air heavy with their scent. I sat on one of the cute green park benches that was washed in warm sunlight and read my current book - "The Forty Rules of Love". It's written by Elif Shafak, a Turkish writer who's quickly becoming one of my favorites. Can I share the opening paragraph with you - 

"Between your fingers you hold a stone and throw it into flowing water. The effect might not be easy to see. There will be a small ripple where the stone breaks the surface and then a splash, muffled by the rush of the surrounding river. That’s all.

Throw a stone into a lake. The effect will be not only visible but also far more lasting. The stone will disrupt the still waters. A circle will form where the stone hit the water, and in a flash that circle will multiply into another, then another. Before long the ripples caused by one plop will expand until they can be felt everywhere along the mirrored surface of the water. Only when the circles reach the shore will they stop and die out.

If a stone hits a river, the river will treat it as yet another commotion in its already tumultuous course. Nothing unusual. Nothing unmanageable.

If a stone hits a lake, however, the lake will never be the same again."

Beautiful, don't you think?

So, all in all, it was a perfect day. Tomorrow is Sunday. I'm taking a trip to one of those old book markets in Chandni Chowk - where they sell second-hand books for dirt cheap prices. Let's see how big my haul is tomorrow evening :) I'll try to get something for my mom too. It's her birthday this Wednesday. I'm thinking of making an impromptu visit home and surprise her. 

I started this letter with - "I'll be honest - I'm a bit drunk while writing this..."

It should've really been - "I'm drunk - (so) I'll be a bit honest while writing this..."

Drunk or not, that's how it should always be, don't you think?

Warmly,

Abhimanyu