Letter to my Daughter III

Sweetheart,

I am writing to you as a respite tonight. I am very, very bitter. Circumstantially, and creatively. And only you could cajole me to come out of it, my curl queen. Over the last three days of liquid overdose and capsules of nutrition, Chinks, I have been thinking what would it be like if you were around. I would not be able to pamper this ailment, would I? It would be taken over by your return from school, wanting to jump into my arms, and me feverishly avoiding it. It would be about you wanting to share my chocolate Horlicks which I would tire convincing is not meant for you. You would not understand my squeamishness each time I said a no to your invites of building a palace of cards amidst my ceaseless coughing. 

Come to think of it, it would be better, with you. Protecting you from any approaching infection, and fighting away any sense of dis-ease with the ease of helping you with your home-works. Any other achievement would pale in comparison to your understanding of how six oranges can be shared equally among three friends. All my weakness would vanish when you compete with me in that silly game of moustache-making with our respective drinks (obviously, you with your creamy hot chocolate always win). And though you insist that you are grown up enough, and this weak constitution would not exactly permit, but the delight of pulling you up to me for the kiss I plant on each of your cheek, each time, after having you squatting on my feet and in joined hands, as I bring you forth chin-wards is absolutely magical. 2-2, we win and our high fives.

At such moments, petty things like petty people and their petty policies would never bother me. Yes Chinks, people are hardly bad. At most they are petty, thus much pitiable. We shouldn't spoil this letter to you with my bitterness overpowering me, right?

So Princess, since you aren't exactly around, do write me a reply (yes, yes, in your newly learnt cursive style, and oh certainly you can use the new pencil that G gave you -- I have all possible relations waiting to spoil you). Remember, I do not advocate the use of an eraser. Erasing mistakes do not help us learn. Strike through and let the mistakes remain as a reminder of what not to repeat. If you are having Maggi, have a spoonful for me too. I love you, cuddlesome.

Missing you,

Momsie.