Love-Letter (XXIX)

Dear Vivek,

Last night I caught Veer reading a love-letter from his girlfriend. He had placed it inside his copy of one of the trash best-sellers he goes to bed with, only he was reading it while the TV was still on. Curiously, I went and stood behind him, on tip-toe and caught him in the act. It is from that Radhika, daughter of Gaurav Nopany. Good catch, but not the best one. I have met her, she has buck teeth which refuse to undergo any treatment of invisibility.

I did not scold him, or anything as backdated as that. In fact, I am inspired and hence writing you one. You must be reading this as you fiddle out your phone from the inner pocket of your suit and find a stray piece of paper, which you will not recognise, comes from one of Parchhi's products. Do you even know what Parchhi specialises in? Nobly, you did invest in my dream project and do not complain even when I do not show you the registered profits, but we are indeed taking the city by the storm. As your car swerves for today's road leading to the first meeting, you may, or may not, choose to open it, and read on. Or, may not.

Assuming you do, I hope this letter doesn't catch you too much by surprise. I fancied my hand in writing one because truly, you are my soulmate, even though the gossip sections of the magazines refute and spread rumour, and I am blessed to have a husband like you. You never stopped me from anything, forever encouraged me towards learning, and even go out of your way and bring me gifts each time you are out. Veer is a young man and I pray he follows your footstep. His career is his own choice but to be a man of the world, I hope he takes after you.

I do not know what else to write. If I were the old Chandrika, may be I could have planned something more elaborate for this special delivery, but as your wife, everything seems to be taken care of, even before I get a chance to think. Yes. I found it. I miss thinking. If possible, Vivek, permit me the scope to think. Everything else is, touchwood, perfect.

Assuming you completed reading this letter, I am sure you missed the point. So, let it be. I have to make a dash for collecting the Gucci scarf at Taj. Wearing it tonight, so that when you wear me on your arm to the Jindals' new bungalow, I live up to the 'thinking woman of today'.

Love,

Chaand.