The Last Letter ✉️☕🥞

Running away to a nearby Star Bakery which was established before Partition of India (1947), I've thousands of thoughts in my head, tangled with an emotion of betrayal.

I thought of running away from home when I felt the racing heartbeat, shortness of breath, dizziness, trembling and muscle tensions. But I failed to run away from my inner self, trembling behind the chamber of heart. 🫀

I ordered three scoops of ice cream which I know most hated, so my body will work on unwelcome emotions. I hate eating! I wanted to welcome my reflexes to these unwelcomed emotions. 

I picked up my diary and there was an old picture of you with a ragged crocs and faded tee 👕 hidden between my favourite pages livin' in the past continuous tense. 

I tore it half and thought of putting it in the furnace behind the bakery where delicious rusks and pan cakes are baked. 

Did I tear it, did I not?

That is still a question.

I'm neither Shakespeare nor Kafka to elaborate the essence of cliche desires.

I wanted to send a letter to the largest mountain ranges Aravalli as the person resides there.

I wrote on the back of the crumbled half torn photograph with an ink pen, just the way my beloved Donne would have -

My Last Letter to you ✉️

The New you 

Self Centric inhumane human

I hope you're shredded with incomplete emotions, that I no longer need to worry about.

I dropped a tear or two, pricking my soft cheeks with few fresh wounds near lips. Blood and tears both tastes salty, and smells of unknown memoirs (I call them kafan of my memories). 

I continued writing on sprinkled tears and blood spat on the back of the photograph.

Will she love you when your crocs will turn ragged and the friction will make you fall under the flyover, running in the rain with a heavy bag behind that auto? 

Does she get worried when you go numb?

Will she still love you when you eat the same apple pie and omelette every morning without getting bored each day? Will she give you her favourite dip just to see you eating the last slice of pizza, while looking at your favourite stand up comedy?

Does she request you for candies saying "My good boi!”

Does she love you the same way I did when you see failures or she recognises them as failures; or another milestone for you?

Does she pray for you when you shiver during sleep, while holding onto you a little tight, or cry that you can never be her knowing the differences well then.

Is she scared of you being bitten by mosquitos on campus or being late for class? She brings Odomos Naturals Non-Sticky Mosquito Repellent Cream when you are outside?

Does she know that you miss mumma's egg curry and blueberry jam? 

She too gets confused on some mathematical questions which are your right hands play? Does she like your knowledge about everything and how you describe everything precisely?

I don't hate her loving you; I hate you for always faking living a life of lies.

Memories flooded with an apple lover, who likes it because it is easy to eat. I stopped to embrace my pain, while having the last sip of my favourite beverage chai from an earthen cup. 

Indeed, to runaway from emotions one can find ways to get tea from small stall right next to the bakery, just to ease the traumic shocks. 

The ice cream Bowl, The tea, brown cup, hanky with an initial M, the bakery board (OPEN), and the brick walls were witness to my silent whispers and screams. I have found comfort in them. I continued writing with rain of grief in heart,

Does anyone peel and cut the apple in the right proportion, then fraction the pieces into the tiffin container for it's the death of night and there's so much academic work left? Or do you buy apple fruit juice packed in a container found in the back of your canteen's refrigerator because there are no options and markets of fresh fruit juices are away?

Inform me if the letter reaches you the way dua reaches to the sky, because these two issues concern me about your health, every time I see an apple. I've stopped eating it, but I can't stop locking the refrigerator with red plump away.

- Furnace