this is not a normal love story.
never was, probably never will be.
it is however, a story of emptiness. of letters with impeccable timing and raccoons, heartbreak and rooftops, of hatred, froot loops and finally, acceptance.
*:･ﾟ✧
mina is tired. t...
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dear mina, if you're reading this, it means I am dead. That, or I've changed my mind about showing you these letters, and Amma, you and I are sitting at the dining table, chuckling over how sentimental I am. Let's be honest, it's probably the former option. how are you? Sure, you tell everyone you're fine, but are you really? I want you to think about the last time you told the truth about how you felt. This is the part where you wonder whether this is a prank. I assure you, it is not. To be honest, writing this letter to you when you're right in front of me, finishing your algebra homework feels a little silly, but Veda convinced me it would be a good idea, so I'm doing it for her.
There are a lot of things I wish I could tell you: pick the clothes off the bathroom floor, I love you, and do your own laundry. There are a lot of things I wish I could have taught you: how to tune a violin, how to make the perfect dosa, how to drive a stick-shift. There are a billion things I wish I could have seen: your graduation, your first day at college, your wedding day, my first grandchild and so many more special moments I know I'm going to miss. But life has a funny way of depriving us of what we loved most. I'm not bitter - just honest.
Do you know what your name means, kutti? I know, reading this will make you grimace and go oh appa, not again! but bear with me. One last time.
You see, the day you were born, was honestly the best day of my life. I know, I know how cliché I sound, but I'm not joking. Sometimes you forget how monumentally important someone is to you until they don't need you anymore. Growing up is growing apart but you need to know that I'll always love you. The first time I saw you, I knew how brilliant, kind, successful and happy you would grow up to be. But the very first thing I noticed about you, were your beautiful eyes. Those eyes were mesmerising, and even now, 12 years later, I can read exactly how you feel by looking at your eyes. You'll probably be a lot older than 12 years old when you read this letter, and that makes me a little sad. Minakshi, in Tamil, means 'one with beautiful eyes'. I think you can connect the dots.
This is, hopefully, the first letter of many. Tell your Amma I love her, and to not be so hard on herself. Some people aren't made of fire and bravery and strength. They are made of soft smiles and enthusiasm and eyes as bright as the afternoon sun.
