Letter to Chhuti XIV

Hello Sweet Little Holiday!

Sweetheart, I am going to keep it sweet and crisp -- like your visits are. Stealing is a bad habit. Stealing a spoonful of milk-powder, stealing an extra piece of mutton, stealing sleep for twenty more minutes after the alarm goes, each of these, as unassuming and alluring as they may sound, harmless too, are not 'good'. Let us give you an example. These letters from me, would you ever like one to be misplaced? Even though you do not read them by the hour, you do like the idea of having them with you, don't you, all fourteen? So, you see, stealing is not good.

However, what does one do when one gets to get you by stealing? Or, steals you out of a schedule? All ideas of goodness go for a tremendous toss. I mean, its you, Chhuti! A delayed beginning to a working week, a lapse of attention towards dedication, an extra look at the shades of the sky -- you make it all possible. Ethics of professionalism, standards of perseverance and parameters of patience turn to phrases of jumbled meaning when you are with me.

Look at me, Chhuti! I am smiling! I feel free, happy. Right in the middle of the urban industriousness, you are my island of indolence. I owe you my respite, in effect my life.

Thank you, all over again, Chhuti.

K.