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‘Is that all? Did he say that I was horrible?’
‘He will never say that.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he loves you too much for that.’
I could say nothing to that because I knew he was right.
‘Anu?’ I asked.
Silence for a few minutes.
‘Ask her. I don’t care now,’ he said abruptly.
I slumped back into my chair. What had happened to the four of us?
Life, said a little voice in my head.
7 May 2013.
‘In case I haven’t told you this before, you’ve lost it completely, Kas,’ read Pitajee’s text.
‘Shut up,’ I wrote back.
9 May 2013.
In a bid to distract myself, I have been spending a lot of time toying with the pearls of wisdom (read: Mum’s blog).
Extract from a post titled, ‘Comparisons that should not be made’:
It is grossly incorrect to compare your life with that of those around you. Doing that will only make you feel smaller because there will always be someone with better health, a bigger career, a prettier wife. Remember, each of us has his own share of ups and downs. Experience the ups with quiet dignity and go through the downs with quiet dignity. The key to happiness is a stable mind. A stable mind, not given to troughs and peaks, while difficult to attain, is a beautiful mind.’
Extract from another post titled, ‘What you owe to yourself’:
We go about life doing whatever it is we consider to be our duty towards our friends, family and society. What we forget often, I am afraid, is the duty we have towards ourselves.
Do you know what the biggest duty you have towards yourself is?
I will put it simply.
Your biggest duty is to help yourself become the best you can possibly be.
I sat and read the last line a couple of times. It was powerful stuff, I had to say. My mind went back to what I had done to Purva and wondered if that had signified the worst in me.
Moving to other matters now, the number of followers of the blog is now an unbelievable 612. She has become some kind of cyber Shri Prabha Shankar.
My Parents’ Home, 10 May 2013, 3.00 p.m.
‘Give me one good reason,’ Mum thundered, as she furiously paced the living room.
I closed my eyes, trying hard to block out both the anger and the questions.
‘One good reason,’ she repeated, jabbing a finger in my direction.
Dad, Mum and I were sitting in the living room. Two days ago, I had announced to them that I no longer wished to marry Purva. Before the day had ended, the e-ticket to a flight home had arrived politely in my email.
After many rounds of arguments, where Mum mostly seemed to ask me to give her one good reason, we still had not made much headway.
