An open letter to Bhai…

Bhai on his trusted mobike

Dear Bhai,

Hope all is well with you.

Forgive me for communicating with you in this manner – I did train a pigeon but it took off when it figured I was an Indian in Pakistan.

First things first. Thank you so much for keeping track of this blog and reading all posts – not just once, but over and over again, all the time, from all kinds of locations. I really do appreciate your interest in my interests.

I am truly indebted to you for this and so much more that you do for me all the time. If only I could return the many favours…

Bhai, I feel so special and so cared for each time I step out of the house and you try and match footsteps with me. The other day when you followed me into the superstore and kept me company when I was shopping for groceries, I was so moved.

I noticed that you asked the store supervisor and other shop helps too to take good care of me. It felt so good being the cynosure of all eyes – including the customers’. And you looked so cute making a mental note of which pulses I eat and which brand of flour I buy. Ah! I so wish I could tell you so.

I also spotted you carrying a packet of Ariel washing powder. You remembered to shop for Bhabhi even on duty? She must be one happy woman!

I was delighted when you and another Bhai walked into a laboratory with me where I had gone to collect medical reports. Of course, as you would have gathered, the reports weren’t mine but my maid’s. Yet the fact that you care makes me feel so nice.

I felt honoured when you walked into the upholstery store with me. Because of your presence the sales guy helped me make up my mind in record time. I figured how possessive you were about me when you pulled up a museum guide for talking to me too much.

I also loved the way you spent time with me in that teeny-weeny jewellery shop some time ago. There was barely enough space for the two of us, yet you did not deprive me of your company even for a second. It was nice of you to take interest in the kind of designs and gems I like. Ditto when I checked out Pakistani handicraft and you tried to get details of my likes and dislikes from the salesmen after I had walked out of the store.

Did you know that I like that smile on your face when you look at me and when you take a sharp U-turn on your red Yamaha to announce that you are there for me – always. I feel so thrilled when you follow me on foot when I decide to go for a walk.

I love the way you hang around under that tree in front of my house with your pals (you know, the chowkidars and guards) and keep a careful eye on my house. I am positive that if it wasn’t for your special job you would have attained Moksha by now. I don’t know the Urdu equivalent of Moksha, but in English its “salvation”. Familiar? Did they teach you about “salvation” at your madrassa?

I want to put on record that the chowkidars and guards are doing a brilliant job of filling in for you while you are away. I would even recommend a raise for them and, if I may say so, a weekly off. Of course, I’ll miss them tremendously – not to mention their “meow-meows” (when they see me with my cats) and their comments when I play badminton – but then you know I am all for good working conditions.

Thank you again for making my stay so comfortable in your country. I will try and write as often as I can to you. I know you’d love to write back, but then don’t worry your silence is worth a million words. And, of course, you can continue to pay/repay me in kind for writing to you.

My salam to bhabhi/bhabhis (as the case may be) and muah muahs to the chunnu-munnus.

Best,

Your pyari behan