Sagar's Last Letter

Dearest Naina,

There are moments when we feel as if we are mere spectators to the game of life and worse still, you realize that the game is on you. That the gods have abandoned listening to your prayers. Rather they have conspired with all the elements of the universe to turn the table against you, while the whole world stands back to watch…and laugh.

Right now Nano, I feel much the same. So close to you…for I’m right there in your lap yet so far off…for you have put those barriers of tears between us. I watch speechless as those thick tears roll down your cheeks and fall down on me, etching the last love letter on my face. A letter full of pain…and memories. Oh please don’t cry babe. No matter what winds carry me, what water body I travel in you can be sure of one thing that your secrets are safe with me and I haven’t forgotten a single moment we have shared over those laughters, tears and just like that ordinary days that life gives each one of us in abundance.

14 years…is a long time, but then it seems just yesterday when your mom had introduced us on your 10th birthday. She had told you to treat me as the sibling you had so badly wanted all the time. You had given her a disgusted expression which had shouted out the fact that you didn’t like the “strange sibling” that had arrived as a birthday gift at all. Why couldn’t parents think of something better to gift to their daughters? A Barbie for instance, or maybe a pup…that would have been so much better. I was scared out of my wits that I would be shelved for a lifetime, but my fears were unfounded. Your mom with her usual calmness and patience explained out the benefits of having a sibling that wouldn’t touch your toys or fight for your dresses games or books. What more, she said, you had every right to yell at me, hug me, tell me all your secrets and what not. Well, you were well, impressed, if not convinced outright.

2 days, I just sat in the bed side chair looking at you, observing you. When I was almost tired of your silly (oops sweet heart I’m sorry) talks with your dolls you actually picked me up, caressed me and introduced me to Annie (your doll, yes I remember her name still after all those years). It felt good…I felt I had found the family with you playing the role of a surrogate mother. Annie was nice but then she was dumb…she would just stand and stare with that fixed smiling expression of hers…Oh God! I just wanted to punch her sometimes(don’t worry, I never went ahead with the plan)

Within 2 weeks we became the best of friends. Every day I would wait eagerly for you to come from school and then you would recite all that happened. Sometimes when you had nothing better to do you would write letters to me and if you had more that enough time to kill you would continue the chain to your mom, Sir, Jaya(your classmate in the neighborhood), God and I don’t know who all. But it was fun. I would read your letters, (when you slept) and within days I knew by heart what you liked or disliked or why, besides of course the daily flow of things at school and home. But I must say…you had an opinion on everything…Oh I know you are smiling now…reading this. I on my part had nothing to tell…for you were my life, my soul. I lived the world through your eyes ears and senses.

Time passed. We became inseparable. You insisted on taking me on all picnics, school trips and vacations. As you entered the teens I replaced Mouglie (that huge teddy of yours) as your bed mate. By that time you had become conscious of yourself and would constantly be worried about getting too much attention or too less of it. I often smiled inwardly looking at you. But did I ever, ever tell you that I loved the thin, dark, serious looking bespectacled girl who considered herself a wall flower and aloof (with an attitude of sun and heart of gold) but had so many wonderful thoughts inside her head? Call my love selfish for I prided myself for being the only one who knew you inside out. The one who knew and believed right from day 3 (yeah you read it right, day 3 and not day 1) that you would be a writer? And I prattled non stop about my role in it to Annie and Mouglie while you slept? Yeah the same creatures I had called dumb a few years back.

My letter would be incomplete without the mention of the Mumbai trip on your 17th birthday. It was there sitting alone by the sea that you had christened me “Sagar”. I had actually cried that day…cried those tears of joy for you had written “ I call you Sagar because you are as deep as the sea…I’m the river who starts from the mountains and travels for innumerable yards, giving, receiving, learning…but then at the end of the day I find peace in the depths of your arms.” You had also contemplated on the strange nature of our relationship…we were siblings, friends, lovers…everything. Or should I say…I was your heart and you my soul?

I get tired now…for the memories are too many and time too less. My end is near. No don’t cry again…we all have to die. Maybe you would relax a bit when you know that I’m dying a happy satisfied death? I had a rocking life at your expense. I went to places, met people and had a wonderful person like you for thought sharing? What else can one want? Also, Sameer is a great human being. He would take my place as your hubby and maybe change you a bit but then you would know that someone in another part of the world loves you exactly for what you are- silent (“I do not speak, I let my silence speak for me”), watchful (“the first time I met Prachi in her short t shirt and chor-type shorts, I felt that she would rush out to meet her nth boyfriend outside the hostel the moment the clock will strike 10 AM”) , strong(“I don’t expect anything from anyone”), care-less(“Who cares, anyways?”), forever optimist (“sub theek ho jayega”) sun lover(the thousand times u clicked the sun and I was jealous of the attention it got), bouquet hater(“Oh, y do people give flowers as gifts. They end up in the dustbin the next day”), HR person in the clothes of a marketing professional (“Kabhi kabhi mujhe lagta hai ki I should have got into HR, maybe I did a mistake taking marketing as a major.”) the born writer(all your letters are a testimony) and a bit dirty (at times) :-)

And sweetheart, I’m not mad at Sameer for taking my place. Not the least bit. You needed someone for I was getting all old and tattered. And also because I couldn’t complete your family or contribute in any way to the dream of having three kids. :-) Jokes apart, Naina…a diary is a diary. It cannot replace a husband (haan haan, the vice versa is also true). Just promise me 2 things:

You would never ever keep a diary again. I pray and wish Sameer becomes the mirror image of your heart, thoughts, and dreams and together you accomplish them, no matter how weird.
I know you are going to burn me in the next few moments. No it’s not wrong and you aren’t killing me, you are consigning me to my last journey-giving me a honorable ending. Keep my ashes and when you go to Mumbai next time just sprinkle a bit of them at the Juhu beach (exactly at the place u had christened me) so that I, Sagar meets his sagar.


With love and lot of happy memories, I end….the sea (Sagar) handing you over to the winds (Sameer). God bless both of you.

Sagar-(your diary)

PS: Nano, tum gaadi (car) nahi ho. I know you get irritated when I use this short name of yours, but you’re my “one in a million” Naina.