Letter to my Car

Dear Car,

Eons ago, I used to dream about you. Strangely, even when my imagination could be at its wildest best, I did not conceive you as someone flashy. When I decided to have you, choosing your colour was the most difficult part -- more than the how-would-I-manage-a-loan part. And quite naturally I settled for the unassuming stardust scheme of things. Layman's language for you is 'grey'. But their association with that word is not something I approve of. They say you are dull, and boring, and appear oldish. Laymen. What do they know of stardust?

This is going to be the only letter which I promise to take a printout of, and self-deliver (in the glove compartment). Since a long time I have deliberately overlooked the fact that I could not overhear you discussing wanting one from me, with your friends. I knew there will be a time, like there is always a right time for everything. Well, sorry today is your day. Sorry, that I hurt you. And sorry, that I delayed. But because I hurt you, I believe this letter is going to remain as special as a healer. 

I will start off by apologizing (again), because hurting you today could have been avoided. I was too consumed with doubts and other worldlinesses to not pay heed to your seeking for my attention. I did start taking you just as an extension of my reflexes and responses. I should not have. The scratches on you (I hate the garage gate) feel like someone just clawed my thumping heart and left it exposed and vulnerable to any kind of further movements. I am too ashamed to face it. I am too hurt too.

And thus, I hope this letter will embalm your pain. This letter wants to be that nutrient which would be a never ending supply to your confidence, for that is what you gave me in this short span. You empowered me with mobility, which was so long an impediment to many of my plans which did not get executed just for the lack of enthusiasm. You have been the reason I have been tolerant and forward looking, the reason for me to introspect and learn of new beats, the reason I began to persevere. You are my favourite toy, that which enables me, and excites.

Like the fuel that runs you, you are mine. Forgive me for all the times that I take you on rough rides. I believe you can sail through the toughest. As we sleep tonight, one wall apart, know that the wall is only physical. Each bit of my being is with you, because, somewhere they owe you their being.

Driven by your love,

K.