Hello, Drive Safely

January 1

Hi dear,

Happy happy new year to you. Come to think of it my new year wasn’t that bad at all. Okay, I got drunk and puked in a girl’s bag. But then it was all there, looking so nice and velvety, and I thought, what the silly heck, she must have spent a bomboosh on this, trying to look all rich and perfect for some stupid party. So I just went ahead and when no one was looking I kind of let it all fall out. I know, I know, you must be thinking how irritating I am, but what to do baby, you’re not here and some deeds must be done. Yes, I think of you so many times and jerk off. Before you find me to be vulgar, let me telling you my thoughts are so full of love and I don’t mean to cheapen you in any way.
My sweet little baby poopoo. When you coming down? By the silly way, I forgot to tell you, I might be getting a promotion, so your little boy is finally growing up. I can support you now, you know for kids and all. I wrote a poem for you. Tell me what you think:
“Can’t get over you,
can’t get under you,
Tell me my
Candy girl,
Where to go,
Love you, love you.”

Yours,
Boo


Jan 2

Dear Boo,
I really appreciate your efforts. I know you feel deeply for me, I’ve always known that. But as you know, I’m still studying and things like love are elusive to me. I guess I’ve always been a free spirit. I guess that’s what attracted you to me. Congratulations on your promotion. I hope you reach greater heights. It’s amazing how you manage to get drunk twice every week.
My new year’s was quiet and introspective. I caught up on my clinical psychology notes, put everything in neat folders. Kofe has offered to help me every evening after tutorials with my studies. He’s quite a gentleman, I must say. Sometimes, he even tells me I’m one of the most intelligent girls he’s ever met. It’s very flattering, and he never touches me. Yesterday, he was reading my palm, and he blushed while touching it. It’s rare to find men like that in today’s world. Papa is going on a trip to Dubai for some work. I hope I can spend more time with Kofe and my studying then. In fact, he suggested that Kofe could stay over to take care of me when he’s not around.
I don’t know what to say about your vulgarity. But then, I guess it’s natural for men to do that. One thing I really can’t stand is bad language. Even if you are angry, you must maintain a sweet tongue. That’s what good breeding is all about. Don’t try sending me mushy poems. I’m quite flattered, as I said, but I’m like the wind. I just blow and blow. No one can pin me down in a balloon. Take care of yourself.

Sincerely,
R.S


Jan 3

Darling darling,
Who the fuck is Kofe? I thought some old man was giving you titorials. But let me tell you, I never liked that old man. He sounds like a sick pervert when he tells you to talk about anal phase and all. What psychology has to do with anal phase, I don’t know. I anyway think anal phase is dirty. Only gay men do anal phase. It is a dirty man trying to talk dirty to you. You don’t understand, men all big bloody dickheads. Not like women. They just talk bad, they crack jokes and laugh. You think, ah funny, but secretly they get bigger. I hate that man.
And Kofe, who in bloody rotten hell is Kofe? What kind of name is that? Has he emerged from coffee beans, does he work at Coffee Bar? Why are u letting guys take you for granted? Such men, stay away from. Your father will get you married to him. You don’t understand fathers. You are a little girl, unknown in the ways of the world. Hey rhymed! No Coffee touching, okay? If he touches you more time, I’ll cut his balls off.
You like my poems. You are just too shy to admit. Yes, you are the wind, you are my stars, my moon, my juicy balloon, my sweet sugar pumpkin booze. I can’t help rhyming. Poetry in my blood. And you in my heart, the blood in my heart. Get the connection? Wink wink.
Tell me more. Weather good that side of the state? Very cold?

Yours and only yours (for million lifetimes)
Boo

PS: I know you dislike very much bad language. But I’m just a jealous man. Forgive me.



Jan 4

My angel love. I’m waiting for your reply. Why you not writing? Are you angry with me? I know you are. I used bad language in front of you. But I’m a poet. Poets believe in free thought. My sweetheart, write no. I’m dying here without your words. I hit myself with a cane yesterday for using bad language with you. Come here baby, talk to me.
Waiting desperately,
Boo


Jan 6

Dear Boo,
You do this every time, don’t you? Sometimes I wonder why I even talk to you. You are not even intelligent enough for me. I guess the fact that you love me so much makes me in a way more appreciated. Why did you hit yourself with a cane? Don’t you know that’s abnormal behavior? Tell me, do you like pain? Were you physically punished as a child? I want to know exactly what you thought about when you hit yourself? Did you feel that by making your physical body suffer, you could erase the pain in your mind? Tell me more about your childhood. I want to know. Can you do that for me? I can help you.
I won’t talk about Kofe anymore. It’s not important. You are. When you need me, just reach out. I’m there to help. Reply soon.

R.S


Jan 7

Boo, I’m waiting for your reply. Are you okay? I’m getting worried now. Please don’t scare me like this.

Waiting,
R.S


Jan 9

Sweet love potion,
I hurt you know, I hurt lots and lots. You say I’m not intelligent enough for you. Is that all that matters? What about that I earn much more than Kofe…what about that I’m 6 feet tall…more than everything else, what about that I love you?
You will understand some day. Then you will come running in my big arms. You are so small. I think. You look in the photo of you on your page.
When I was hitting myself, I punished myself for not being sweet to you. It is okay. For you, what is body pain? For you, my heart is in pain.
You want to know about my childhood. I will tell you. My father was a soldier in the Army. My poor mother took care of us. He was never there. He drank a lot. When he used to come back home from posting, he would bring his friend Daju uncle. They would sit and drink in night, till very late. My mother would smile and be happy whenever he came. My mother was pure, like Goddess Saraswati. She would do anything to keep my father happy. Once I even saw her pressing Daju uncle’s thighs and my father was watching. How she must have hated it. But I liked Daju uncle. He always got gifts for my mother. My father was very possessive about him. Once, Daju uncle was helping me use the loo. I was 14 then. I was a bad boy. I purposely relieved myself on him, but he just helped me wash. Then he also played with me. He taught me how to play with myself. Such a good hearted man. He was very good at showing affection. Then my father saw us laughing and he told Daju uncle that he can’t have the whole family. I think he meant we should all use the loo only one at a time. That is good manners no? I remember first time I chatted with you, you asked me such polite questions. You are very posh posh, like some actress in a movie.
See so much I have written to you. Why you ask about childhood, I don’t know. I had lovely childhood. I was so shaitan, like bad boy. You understand no, how bad boys are. They tease everyone and laugh and joke. But you I will never laugh at. You are my dream girl. My little girl. Write okay? I will wait.

Crazy, love sick Boo


Jan 9

Dear Boo,
I think I’m quite confused now. Though I can grasp a little bit of why you cause yourself pain. I think you need help. And I have been so rude to you. Forgive me. I never realized the seriousness of your words. But what I admire in you is your ability to laugh about all the pain. Tell me Boo honestly. Did you like your uncle touching you like that? How many times did he touch you? I’m just trying to help over here. Please don’t get angry.
I saw the photo that you e-mailed me. You look quite handsome. You have to keep writing to me. I need to hear from you. Tell me more. Did you have a sibling?
By the way, I’ve stopped talking to Kofe. I told him about you and he passed some very nasty comments. He doesn’t believe that you are actually good enough to talk to me. I hate him. He’s quite rude.
Boo dear. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay. I’m here for you.
Always,
Rita


Jan 10
Where are you Boo? I tried the number you had given me some time back. Thought for the first time, I’d hear your voice. But apparently your number is not reachable. I hope you are okay? I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way. Write to me Boo. I want to know if you’re okay or not.
Anxiously,
Rita


Jan 12

Hi dear Rita,
I’m sorry I didn’t write early. Too much to do. Sad if I caused you worry. I’m okay. My number was not reachable because I didn’t pay my bill. I have no job left. They told me to leave yesterday. I have nothing saved. But no, I won’t worry you with my story. You are such a good girl. God will bless you for your kindness.
To answer your question, I liked Daju uncle. He was nice man. Like my mother. She was nice too. And if he is nice to my mother, then I must be nice to him. What is too much about touching? Why you acting so boring? Touching is sign of love. Someday I will show you how touching can bring love. Your lovely neck I will touch. So fair and smooth it looks.
I had a younger brother. His name was Googie. He is now in UK, in the transport business. I’m so sad no. I have no money left for my rent. And soon I will not be able to write to you, because now no office so no secret mail checking, and no money for even cybercafe. But it’s okay. I can survive on chana. I’m strong man. You worry not.
Don’t know when I will write next. But you keep writing.
Take care,
Boo


Jan 13
Dearest Boo,
Your mail almost had me in tears. You don’t how much I’m in pain. Because you are not happy. I’ve never felt this way for anyone. And God has made you so special, because in spite of seeing so much in life, you have so much warmth for people. You have this tremendous capacity to love, which is very rare to find. I wonder what you ever saw in me. And I’ve been so stupid to not understand your love. Boo, don’t get angry, but I would like to send you some money. I know you are a very self-respecting man. But please Boo, let me help you. There’s a reason why we bumped into each other in that chatroom. Let me help you for all the love you’ve shown. I’m writing down my postal address at the end of this e-mail. Send me a letter by snail mail if you can.
I know you’ll take time to write. But I’ll keep waiting.
Love,
Rita


Jan 14

My sweet Boo,
How are you? When are you going to check your mail? I hope you’re okay. I know I told you I’ll wait, but I’m getting so restless. Your phone is still not reachable. Let me talk to you as if you are right in front of me. You know Boo, I have so much to talk to you about. We all have our sadness, I have mine too. People like you get so much suffering and yet you manage to live on, forever smiling. People like me take this sadness and hide it somewhere, but it always lingers on, making us hide away, and not trust anyone. It’s true, I never did trust anyone, until I met you. There were things about you that I was wary of earlier, but now I know you’re just harmless, like a child.
My mother died when I was 10. Dad has always taken care of me so well. Nothing I asked for was refused. Even now, he showers me with stuff that I like to wear, especially stones. I have this huge collection of precious stones, thanks to him. But our house is pretty safe. No bad element ever comes that side, plus we are in a very posh locality. Why am I boring you with all this trivia? Oh yes, my mother. My last memories of her are in the hospital. I didn’t visit that often, but when I did, I would sit on her bed and hold her hand and she would shake it. Oh Boo, how much I loved her. It makes me cry even now to think about it. There’s this sapphire pendant that she put around my neck before she died. I always wear it.
I’ve never talked about my personal life with anyone. Not even Kofe. Maybe I trust you, because we share a bond of pain. Like kindred souls. I hope you’re okay Darling. Please write soon.
Only yours
Poopoo

PS: I even miss your poems now. Miss you like hell.


Jan 15

Checked mail. Still none from you. Sad.

Rita


Jan 16

My darling Boo,

I’m so upset. I wish I could just be in your big arms and cry. My eyes are blurred right now, because I’m crying so much. Some sick pervert entered the house last night when we were out and stole a whole lot of stuff. Even my stones. All of them. Luckily, I was wearing my sapphire. Sick bastard left used condoms all over the house. We’ve filed a police complaint. I hope they catch him and make him rot in jail.
Oh Boo, where are you? Why is everything bad happening? I want to know if you’re okay or not. I think about you every day. It’s driving me crazy. I want to just know if you’re okay or not. When the hell will I hear from you? When when when? You don’t know, so many bad thoughts are dancing in my head. You living on the roads, starving, you in a hospital, you crying…Boo, talk to me angel, talk to your sweet Rita. How much more must I wait. How much more? Why does God always test my patience? If I don’t hear from you by tomorrow, I’m going to hurt myself. Somehow, I feel responsible for all the bad that happens to people. First it was Ma, now it’s you.
Heartbroken and crazed
Forever yours,
Rita



Jan 17

Boo,
Please write back. If only a word. Just write. I don’t even know your real name, where you live, where you worked. I could have taken a bus and visited you myself. Even if I come there, how will I find you in such a big city? Say something Boo, even if it’s just Hello. I’m going crazy Boo. Just a word, but say something.

In pain,
Rita


Jan 18

Safe now

Covers in the darkness
And patience in the sky,
Jackal cries past crimson night
Far across stormy seas
Into the rooms
Of despair,
Of the pin like senses
Pricking in solitude
Till nothing,
Just the cold wind,
And running naked
On icy hills
Running far
And fast
Leaving,
Behind
The hot volcano world,
In a flash
Of anger,
Towards freedom
In the snow
And peace
Towards frozen
corners of the heart.


PS: Boo is a silly name. Strange how it worked so well. Rita, you’re pretty stupid for a psychology student. Has anyone ever told you that?


Jan 17


Sorry! The following mail could not be delivered to the recipient. The recipient’s mailbox could be full or not functioning at present. Please try again after some time.

To: <boolikestoparty@yahoo.com>
From: Rita Sood <rita.sood@collarbone.com>
Subject: Postmaster delivery failure

Subject: ?

Dear Boo,
I don’t get it. What the hell are you talking about? I’m going to hurt myself if you play silly games with me. Do you hear me Boo? Do you fucking understand? You can’t talk like that to me? I’ll chop your balls off. It can’t be, you motherfucker, you maggot striken son of a bitch. This can’t be happening. Just tell me it was a joke, tell me Boo…please…

Rita
-X-X-X

(I just realised I have hordes of short stories lying in my comp for a collection I've been building called 'Tomato Sauce and Tomato Ketchup'. This is one of them and was written in 2005.)