Feb 11, 2010
Dear R and wife,
I have wanted to write this letter to you, my ex-husband and your wife, for a very long time. You deserve to know how I feel about you and how you treated my most precious miniature schnauzer, Fritz, before I removed him from your home.
R, you and I were married over 16 years, brought a child into this world together and had a number of different pets, including dogs, in our care. We both loved all animals, especially dogs, and you helped me take care of a number of puppies and dogs throughout our years together. We treated our dogs as well as we treated our son–with love, compassion and care. When we parted ways, we had a dog, Crissy, at the time that we had discussed together about her future. She was a miniature schnauzer my mother had given to me. She was just a puppy when we received her. (more…)
Feb 10, 2010
Can you believe that we are six months into our aliyah? We’re grateful to be here and grateful for all of the opportunities, for personal growth, that being here brings.
Life here, in many ways, is both simpler and more challenging than life there. The crazy middle-easterners we call “friends” and “neighbors” are fab and are vehicles for much of our cultural enlightenment. Sure there are creeps among the saints, but most of the folk in our circles are ordinary, wonderful, hard-working people. Among them, there is less of a feeling of entitlement and more of a feeling of “can do.” After all, here, prices are higher (by about twice the amount) and salaries are lower (by about half) than there. Locals make things last, fix things, use something else, or do without. (more…)
Feb 9, 2010
Yes, I always wanted to call you a little bird. Why a bird? So that you would have wings to fly and soar up, high up. Higher than the clouds. Beyond anyone’s reach. Nobody could catch you or pin you down. Probably you may get a chance to speak to the wispy clouds, the ones that dissolve so mysteriously. Some of them might even take you along their eternal journeys across the skies. Paakhi, you may even fly close to that great orange-red orb in the sky, feel its searing heat. I am sure my little angel will make friends with the great sun god. Maybe even the sun god will envy your freedom. The magical sunbeams will be partners in your adventures.
Like a sunbeam you flood my life with light and colour. My darling daughter, yet to be born, how many dreams I weave for you. You will get to see the many-coloured rainbows. Paakhi, you might teach them to do a tap dance with you. My little bird don’t get scared of the loud rumbling thunderstorms or the lightening that might come in your path as I was when I was young. I would cling to Amma’s sari and hide my face in her lap. I would close my eyes and think that by burying my head deep, my troubles would go away. (more…)
Feb 6, 2010
I still think about you. When certain songs come on the radio, or I see a skateboarder in the street, or even when I see guys who shares your slight, but overwhelmingly cute overbite, I think of you.
I’ll always think about you.
Being my first boyfriend, my first love, my first lover – well, I should remember you, right? Oh, but it hurts.
Do you remember staying at my house those weekends, hiding from my grandfather? Do you remember the day we lost our virginity, and how afraid you were that you might hurt me? We used to take showers together, and you hated washing your hair but you’d let me wash it for you. Do you remember? I do. (more…)