The Moonflower

1. The Letter

Aai,

     Do you remember my friend Apeksha from 5th grade? I ran into her while I was getting coffee in the morning yesterday. She talked to me for the first time today after years. I remember running into her a few times now, but either she had never noticed me there or just she didn't have anything she wanted to ask me considering that it has been so long since we last saw each other. This time though I may have without realizing it looked at her for too long. She must have felt my gaze on her, her head turned in a swift motion towards me. That's why she came up to me.

Everything about her has changed even the way she walks, her hips swaying from left to right while her heels clicked on the wooden floor. I couldn't help but observe everything about her, all the little details and visualize the girl I knew 10 years ago. When she was talking to me it felt like I was talking to a different person. This girl I was talking to could she be a dead ringer for Apeksha? Because I am certain it was. She wasn't rude to me or anything, that is not how she has changed but the way she talked and giggled was just weird. She started the conversation with hi's and how are doing and how's life going, then moved on to asking about Dad and my university. I gave her vague answers. Most of the answers were 'it's good', that must have annoyed her a lot. She was wanting to ask a particular question, she kept fiddling with the strap of her Chanel bag, glanced way too many times at the floor and the door of the coffee shop and eventually the curiosity spilled out of her heart. She asked me "How is aunty doing?"

The only thing I could do was nod and give a faint smile. I don't like to lie. There was silence and an unspoken understanding when she looked at me, she crawled into this tiny space in my memory where I keep you locked away, she opened this tiny little box and looked at all the memories I have of you and understood that I don't care what you are doing and I don't know what you are doing and I don't want to know what you are doing. I got myself out of that awkward conversation immediately, "I have to go, Apeksha. It was nice running into you." She waved at me and I waved back and almost ran out of the shop.

Sympathy. We as humans are very complicated creatures. We embody so many complex emotions. Feeling pity or sympathy towards someone is something I cannot comprehend. What good does it do to feel sorry for someone? We love to see people inferior to us in any aspect, may it be the silliest thing. So what does it make sympathy, if not a feeling of superiority for someone's misfortune, even if the other person doesn't necessarily think so. He might be the happiest he has ever been, but the moment you tell him 'oh i am so sorry' he goes into a spiral of thoughts of what he has lost or doesn't have.

From the time I woke up to the time I went to bed, I had this void in me which longed for you. But since a few years it isn't here anymore, I never think about you anymore. I am writing this letter to you because I don't want to forget you. I don't want to forgive you. I am writing this letter hoping it would help me feel like something is missing from my life. I want to remember this feeling forever.

The daughter you forgot,

Chaitra