Skip to main content

A Letter to the Phone call, “Munazza, We received our Offer Letters.”


Dear Professors and My best friends
Keep sending letters of love through funny analysis of the students. Life has been marvelous lately with you both in it. The deep  conversation in class about Macbeth's Condition to sympathise with Lal Ded on call lead to life like thunderbolt. Eight years with you both are so precious. Seems like diving in the ocean filled with waves to get rare pearls. You are my rarest pearls. I still remember Manisha (My Chahat) with a chandan teeka in the first class which reminded me of the lead actress from the tragic romantic Tere Naam. Haha, you're still my God loving woman. Ekta being an introvert with curiosity, and didn't sit together till Derrida's Lecture. As Derrida is most famous for the theory of deconstruction. It destroyed my thoughts for padhaku Ekta as being super friendly and smarty. Students are blessed with the presence of such wise minds in the classroom. I wish to attend classes soon and have tea in the staffroom together. ☕
You both are bold, intelligent, supercool with a witty sense of humour, I learnt that when we discuss newspaper headlines.🤭
I really miss you both. ‘We are the champions’ group which holds the picture captured by my beloved. So, I'm not changing that. Maybe or maybe not! Another dilemma. Let me end before my train of thoughts runs farther than Mrs Dalloway. I've to get some flowers, and then jump from the metaphorical balcony during wars of mind. 
I miss sitting on small stools eating kulchas with Ekta's delicious sabzi, achar in front of the Art Faculty next to Amul Milk Dairy where our heart lingered for ice creams which we rarely ate because chai already calmed our chaotic minds filled with the confusing language of Shepherd's tale. 
Meet me soon, missing you hugs and tales from the class, my ears are tired for keeping the phone for hours on ears. Don't mind my lame jokes! I know you won't ever. 
Convey my salam to family, and nature around you. 

Only Yours
Elizabeth Bennet🎶✨


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Welcome to the Gym: Time Slows Down Near Heavy Objects 🫀💪🏋🏻‍♂️

Harry and Ginny don't seem well together- A nightmare for Potterheads - dreams have the best headlines when we doze off reading a good book while scrolling the dua app. Skipping phone's alarm while switching off an alarm clock is a peaceful way of denying technology in minute ways. Still the phone's notifications make way to stab our eyes.  Word of the day - kharisma .  Mobile takes no days off. Too bright to view screen for an early morning while the moon is still visible. Charisma is old kharisma, it doesn't change its essence - the meaning. Same with human beings. They're always the same, unless the stone heart recieves some miraculous rain shower. 🌧️ 🫀 “How can I accept a person that has a stone instead of a heart?" The bathroom mirror stays broken with layers of stickers. Sophia hates the face that holds beards and buises.  “I don't have time for ugly thoughts in the morning.” Pushing brushing to limits releasing blood from mouth is daily breakfast...

Pitch, Poetry, and Parallel Times: What a Joka!📽️🍁✍🏼🗓️

कुछ कह दिया होता? कूर्ग का टिकट करा ही लिया होता? शायद सब बेहतर होता। The “if theory” is the wisest of all for the pitch — even for skeptical humans. Time traveling has always fascinated my mind, as it does for many of us. We often wish to leap into the future or alter the past. Last July, I unexpectedly got a call from the city of Jhilmil and Barfi. I felt the emotions exactly as Satyajit Ray’ s movies make us feel, with the metaphysical boundaries of dreams and reality, reminiscent of Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore’s poetry. Before my rotting thoughts could steal all the joy, as they did in the movie Lootera near lakes, I tried to reassemble my gratitude while being in sujood. Literature expertise would lead to an institute talking about consultancy. Phew! I never thought God’s pitch worked like that. If 25-year-old Munazza hadn’t heard that, she wouldn’t have thought of this pun: What a joka! No wonder I’ve stopped writing. Ideas only come in dreams, in waves, often butchered...

I Don't Brush My Teeth 🪥🦷🪞🧴🧺

I see a mirror in front of the tiny basin I flinch at my reflection; There is a man behind me  Holding my hair, gently Like a professional hairdresser,  planting a pony tail. I see a mirror in front of the green round basin, I stopped in the moment- As the pause,  While watching a movie with DVD  during the washroom break, Or At times for the freshly danced churmurey. The man played a song from Barfi Placing tiny droplet shaped toothpaste Flavoured with mint, and love. I see a mirror in front of the rectangular gold basin, The man in the reflection had a gentle smile. I fell on my knees Begging the reflection to be of one  Mine, mine alone! The man helped me to brush my teeth; "Clean the tongue, it won't budge me  Rinse the mouth,  There's nothing anxious  if water splashes all over me." Eye level with the cabinet doors,  Sitting still, I see a soap freshly wrapped With elite fragrance 🧼 I feared the swirling froth, Soaking well in my maroon...