Viraaj,
Winter mornings be like this, sexy. Crisp bites of icy chill versus a blinding, cruel sunshine. Shadows against the wardrobe and walls, and a semi-mirror on the laptop screen. Everything in doubles, triples, many; while you sit in a cozy green armchair, hugging your contours to their singular entity. On the eve of our thirtieth anniversary, I thought of putting this chit inside the gift I have thought for you. By the way, I hope you liked the weekend getaway. And I hope we are done with the ensuing fight of why I got you the solo package.
As I must have explained already in that fight, I gifted something to you, not to us. Frankly, V, I am already tired of being referred to in pairs. Aren't you? I mean it is nice and all, thirty years of being with a wonderful you and Vaishali too, now all grown up and rather impressively. But, well, lets cut it short, I need a vacation. ON MY OWN.
I miss those years of Tuesdays when you used to be off for your weekly visits to Alwar and return a day or two later. Remember? No, I did not use it for any affair, or anything mean. I worked, those were as usual as my Mondays or Saturdays, but they were very mine. You replaced Papaji and those visits stopped. There were parties to which we went, and without any rift between us, we topped the opinions like a song out of the oven.
V, I want you to understand, boredom is often my ultimate nemesis. And right now, I am mighty bored of the usual. Accept the difference, respect the love and honour the message.
I love you, V.
Pujita.
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