—✮☆—Love Letter to Ørlā—✮☆—
Hey, Ørlā
The Most Magical word isn’t Love
It’s Friday
P.S. Everything I’ll write in this Love Letter is so ridiculously off-limits, batshit crazy, & kamikaze that I can’t think of any Human girl, in her right mind, who wouldn’t instantaneously turn into murderous Uma Thurman [Kill Bill] — break my bones, break up with me, Javelin-chuck all my stuff out of her home further than Olympic Gold-Medalist Neeraj Chopra can, & open-fire at me with a Gangs of Wasseypur-style home-made gun as I run through the streets in my pretty silk boxers faster than Usain Bolt / Milkha Singh.
———
2200 hours [10pm], Friday Night | Melbourne
I’m 19 — I’m a pukka virgin [never.been.kissed], non-smoker, non-drinker, never-hooked-up-with-hookers, not tall, not good-looking, zero muscles, not cool-enough to make girls wet in their sweats.
It’s Friday night — everyone young is partying & I’m sitting in a corner, against a wall of our low-brow Footscray home & playing legendary game — Snake on my Nokia 3210 notsmartcellphone.
Hutchinson Bhaiya walks in with three bottles of Johnnie Walker Red. We all are 18-19-year-old boys – Hutchinson is anything between 23 & 25. He’s Superdesi with a White Dad — which explains his last name. Hutchinson has the cool swagger & chutzpah of modern-day desi rappers. He has taught us [whosoever was ready-to-learn] to smoke, drink, hook-up with hookers, drink-&-drive, watch adult movies in dead-silence with a meditative face-&-pose in the living room with other teenage boys as if we are watching bhakti sangeet.
Hutchinson is pure evil, superbad influence & we love him to death. [It’s another story that in exactly a month, Hutchinson almost killed me & Madu/Gittu in a horrific car accident, where he was driving after drinking buckets of Johnnie [Whisky] & Victoria Bitter [Beer] for 13 hours straight.]
Non-Stop Alcohol & Smokes Party-in-the-House started soon after Hutchinson Bhaiya walked in that Friday around 10pm. As I watched all the boys get drunk on Johnnie & fill the room with Marlboro clouds while listening to earth-shatteringly loud Techno music on insane Kenwood speakers, a new-born girl arrived on Earth.
You are that girl, Ørlā who landed on downtown Earth at 10pm, Melbourne-time, Friday, 8th December 2000.
———
It wasn’t until 22 years later that I will bump into you in the cool cafés ghettos of Majnu ka Tila.
This letter is the tiny story of those 22 years before You & I met. And the two.odd years I’ve known you in flesh & blood.
———
Boarding School
I had an odd-ball upbringing. Dad was either missing or drunk, mostly both. Mom was either pissed-off or at work, mostly both. Mom FedEx’d me to a boarding school when I was 12 [8th Grade]. Next 5 years in the boarding school in Dehradun made my balls grow & gave birth to, what can be loosely labelled, my personality.
Australia
I dated Adelaide at age 18 — Soon, Adelaide & I broke up & I began dating Melbourne at age 19.
Over the next five years, I fell in love with Melbourne: AFL [Aussie Football], McDonald’s Hungry Jack’s Grilled Chicken Burger, Chicken-Steam Rice with Chinese Chilli-in-Oil, Sarawan $5.50 Biryani, 70c KitKat Chunky for Dinner, Stealing Salvation Army Furniture & Kitchenware [meant for the Poor], Playing Cricket in-the-house & Coles Supermarket Carpark, Stealing $2 coins from the Coles Trolleys, Stealing grapes, Snickers & dry fruits from Coles, Buying Cheapest Ever clothes from Forges, Hustling, Eating Free Food [Langar] & Checking out Desi-Chics at Blackburn Gurdwara.
But I never fell in love with a girl. And then it all changed on Friday.
Dodo
I was scheduled to go to work on Friday, 1st April 2005 but when I woke up, I walked down the stairs & strolled into the front lawns of Farrer Hall, Monash — the sun was so seductive that I instantly called the roster Girl Anna & cancelled my shift [And I had never-ever cancelled my shift in 5 years.]. An hour later, I, with my friend Pippa, & a bunch of Canadian/American exchange students, whom I had never met, headed for St. Kilda beach.
One of those exchange students was Dodo. We instantly hit it off like Calvin & Hobbes, like Max & Caroline. Three days later, we began dating. Three weeks later, we had our first big fight & late on the night of the fight, we knew we’ve fallen in Love. On 29 June, I pulled out the ring & proposed her. Dodo said, “Yes, I will Marry you, Gaurav” as tears kissed her cheeks.
5 days later, she left for Toronto. And I never saw her again. It’s been 20 goddamn years.
That’s why I hate airports & train stations. I hate them more than Sheldon hated Penny sitting in his spot. They’ve stolen the humans I love the most.
—
Ørlā, this letter is for your 24th Birthday. My 24th birthday is the only birthday I spent with Dodo in 2005. You know what day it was – Friday.
We celebrated your 24th birthday on Friday. And I kept [I’m not sure you realized] my first fast for you that Friday.
And as I write these lines, it’s 27th December. It’s Baba’s 40th birthday. And it’s Friday!
Ørlā is an Irish name that roughly translates to ‘Golden Princess’.
You’re a lot like Ørlā [Derry Girls]. You take a lot of things literally, don’t pick sarcasm or social cues, love day-dreaming, and often treat people with zilch prejudice like animals do. And most of all, like Ørlā, you’re an Evolving Soul [don’t ever let go of your Curiosity-&-Sillyosity]
Fun Fact: I would’ve loved to have met you in college, but when I was in college, you were a baby ☺
In those 94 days [1st April - 4 July 2005], Dodo showed me the magic of handwritten Letters, celebrating monthly anniversaries, made me the Album of the Journey of our Love depicting our most memorable moments in words, poems, & photographs.
And you did ditto 19 years later — I’m God’s favorite child :)
If Dodo hadn’t written letters to me, I wouldn’t have known how infinite letters are & I wouldn’t be writing this letter to you.
On 4th July 2019, exactly 14 years after I had last met Dodo [4th July 2005], I packed my bags & disappeared to Bombay to write a novel in 94 days without cellphone or speaking with humans [while sharing a tiny Versova apartment with Yash]. That novel is about the 94 days I was with Dodo in flesh & blood.
Though, I haven’t a darn clue what I was doing 14 hours ago, I recalled every moment from 14 years ago. I will give the novel to you to read once we’re in India.
After Dodo decided to call off our wedding, she wrote me a Letter. That Letter is the reason I wake up every day with Hope. That letter is the reason I know true love is Imperfect, but it beats all the money-bought happiness in the universe. In the 20 years since, Baba, Bõrshă, & Bikram have read that Letter. Ørlā will be the next to read that Letter.
Bõrshă
7 days before my 25th birthday, my wedding with Dodo got cancelled via a phone call. I was in Ahmedabad. I zombie-walked from the dreaded phone-booth to Aashka’s house & sat on her swing in her frontyard/veranda. I’m not sentimental-crying type of bloke, but that day my eyes & heart didn’t rain, they tsunami’d. Aashka & her Mom were really graceful when they let me cry my heart out instead of telling me the world’s greatest lie, “Everything will be Alright.”
For years I walked around with an invisible signboard on my heart that read [as my good ol’ friend Sapna succinctly put it], “Gav’s Love Shop is Shut till Dinosaurs fly back to Earth.” :)
Frankly, I never gave up on Love, but I knew there’s no way anyone was going to shake my soul like Dodo did.
But I’m one lucky basterd.
I met Bõrshă at the office in 2009; I truly met her on 14th March 2010 at PVR Priya precinct.
Our time together was topsy-turvy. She’s calm as midnight, I’m an unchivalrous, cunty, loose-cannon.
Before I dated Bõrshă, I fleetingly half-dated Prakriti.
When Prakriti decided to get married in 2010, she invited me to her wedding & I [shamelessly] travelled to Dehradun [from Delhi] to attend her wedding. That’s the kind of weirdo I’m. But you already know that ;)
When Bõrshă decided to get married in 2017, she invited me to come to her wedding in Kolkata.
I turned down the offer. And I decided to write her a long letter.
A month before her wedding, I travelled to Kolkata for three days & gave her the Long Letter.
The Long Letter got a tad too long. It became an entire papyrus notebook.
I ain’t rich, nice, or beautiful. All I got are stories & those stories I painted in that long letter.
P.S. Bõrshă & I hardly ever talk anyone. I do write her a Letter on her birthday each year.
✰xíḉ⧷⋮
I read her stories before I met her.
I spoke to her before I met her.
I saw her before I met her.
We were to meet on 10th June 2019
We met on 11th June 2019
For three weeks we met & spoke in the office, never spoke or met outside the office. Before I left for Bombay, she wrote me a letter. I wasn’t expecting a letter as I’m godawfully anti-social at work — It wasn’t lost on me that she was sharp as a butcher’s knife, but I never praised her as praising people can potentially cause me cancer. ✰xíḉ⧷⋮ & I didn’t really have that spark or vibe or banter. But she wrote the damn letter anyway.
At the end of her letter, she wrote, “If you ever feel like listening to a song, call me, & I will sing for you” & wrote down her phone number. Even a grumpy goblin like me found that heart-meltingly beautiful.
She didn’t have my cellphone number as I vehemently refused to give anyone my phone number at office, not to students, not to workmates.
A day before I scooted out of Delhi to write 143 Days, I wrote her a Letter too. Then I left for Bombay & cut-off from the world till early November.
When I opened my email in November, I saw two quirky emails waiting with Buddha-like patience to be read. She had written those to me three months ago. I wrote her back. She wrote back. I asked her if she wants to meet. I was in Bombay – she was in Ahmedabad. I was a boy, she was a girl - 15.5 years younger to me. It didn’t make sense. She said “Yes, I do.” I booked the train tickets to Ahmedabad.
Boxing Day [26th December] morning till 28th December 2019 evening, I stayed with her.
Yes, Alcohol.
No, Romance.
Yes, Weed.
No, Sex.
Yes, Stories.
As we are both story-tellers, we both, serendipitously, wrote about our experience/memories of those two & half days on our electronic letter-writing notebook – blog. That’s the only time in my life when I & another human have written simultaneously about our experience together. Mine is from my eyes, eye-lashes & heart – Hers is from her bosom, hair, & soul.
As we were exchanging Goodbyes, I asked her if she will come to Bombay to meet me. She said “Yes, I will.” And she did. And then she came once more. And then once more when my Dad passed away.
And then one day, we had a big fight [on the damn phone] — we were in different cities.
A week later, I received a letter from her.
She had started writing the letter when she felt love for us. The first half of the letter.
The second half of the letter she wrote when her love was broken.
It’s a difficult letter to read. But I’m happy she wrote that letter.
At the end of the letter, she promised, she will write again.
It’s been 4 years — She hasn’t written again.
I don’t know what’s the precise moment, we found Love. I know when it died.
It was Holi – 29th March 2021. I travelled on the overnight train from Delhi to Ahmedabad to see her in flesh & blood & bring our Love back from the Broken.
As she opened the door, I asked her to give me a few minutes - hear me out - I said “We can fix our broken love.”
She said, “I don’t have few minutes for you. I don’t have any time for you, Gaurav. You can go.”
In that moment, I was wasn’t angry or hurt, I was calmly dead. Our love was really dead.
I placed a handwritten Letter on her table, bakery-made chocolates in the fridge, & some of her things she had left with me on her shelf & walked out. [In her defense, she did ask me to not come to Ahmedabad.]
As I walked out of her apartment. Calm on the Out, Dead on the In,
Kids were running around & chucking water & colors on each other. They were having the time of their life. And I stood there, with my world crushed & burned to the ground.
I stood there for what felt like a lifetime.
Then I squeezed my cheeks, pulled my hair, checked my heart beat – Alive.
I began walking.
That’s the last time I saw her.
In that moment, I had the choice to hate her, but I didn’t because I couldn’t.
Even 4 years later, whenever I think of her, I feel quiet joy — I feel grateful that I met her & we shared a year & half of our life together.
✰xíḉ⧷⋮ did make one mistake, a blunder — she thought I was Perfect.
When she realized I wasn’t Perfect, it killed her love for me.
Baba
Karan was my best friend in 2009
Pankhuri was my best friend in 2012
Years 2009 [Karan] & 2012 [Pankhuri] were marvelous.
I met & lived with Baba [March-June 2006] in a PG in a Bungalow in Ahmedabad.
It’s been almost 20 years since I serendipitously bumped into Baba in 25 Kundan Park. I met him when I was 24 & he was 21, now we’re both in our 40s.
I don’t know when Baba & I became soul-mates, but we did. Unlike the magical, but fleeting friendships I shared with Karan & Pankhuri, my friendship with Baba is Infinite. But even Infinite isn’t Perfect. I haven’t spoken with Baba for almost 3 years. Baba has disappeared from my life. No fights — no drama — just disappeared. Whenever I see him next, I will be really tempted to punch him real hard!
With Baba, I always spoke my mind no-holds-barred, something that’s impossible to do with humans, no matter how close we are. I’m always scared of hurting people’s feelings. It’s not that I’m not scared of hurting Baba’s feelings, it’s just that I know Baba will still love just the same even if I say the most godawful truths to him.
Whenever the hell I hear his voice or see him next, will give me the goosebumps — make me skip a heartbeat.
P.S. And I will still bloody sucker-punch him smack in the face.
Not-so-Fun Fact: Pankhuri is the only human whom I once loved & don’t love at all anymore.
Whenever I think of Pankhuri, I feel no nostalgia. No bad feelings either. I feel absolutely nothing.
Though I don’t miss Karan anymore, I still love him.
Ørlā
From the day I really saw you at the Academy when you took that menstruation session bursting all those dimwit myths about not touching pickle or entering kitchen [while on Period] & other imbecilic hogwash. The pzazz you showed that morning really got me.
Prithvi, You & I woke up at 4.45am, reached the dirty Saket Bridge around 6am — within the next 1 hour 47 minutes, turned Saket Bridge into more beautiful than Sydney Harbour Bridge.
Prithvi went off to his date’s home — Gav & Ørlā roamed about the striking landscape of JNU & spent a surreal afternoon in the JNU Jungles with Nilgaye, with rain pouring down like cats, cows, & crocodiles.
Winters 2023 — Sometime in February — Vijay Nagar — We’re sitting on those tiny plastic stools & sipping on the desi-shaadi-style—esxpresso coffee with milk, without sugar. I tell you point-blank that I’m moving to Kathmandu. Instantly, color fades off your face & a cloud of rain threatens to explode. You go quiet [& you never go quiet with me.]
“You want to come along?” I ask
“You want me to come along?” You ask
“Yes” I say
“Alright, I will come along.” You say & the color slowly comes back.
P.S. Gav was never going to move to Kathmandu without you, Ørlā.
How do you know you really like someone?
When you feel the same about her no matter the moment or place.
I liked you so much at that awesome place we stayed at during JLF 2024.
I liked you so much at that awful place we stayed at during JLF 2023.
That’s how I know I like you so so so much. Wherever we are — howsoever you look, I love you more than Ranbir loved cheating on his celebrity girlfriends.
And I’ve never lived this long with anyone. It amazes me how you haven’t yet choked me while I’m asleep or poisoned my dinner — perhaps you’ve tried!
The fact you still aren’t in prison for murdering me is a tribute to our successful relationship ;)
———
In my life, I was never supposed to meet Dolly, Dodo, Baba, Bõrshă, Bikram, NitWit, ✰xíḉ⧷⋮
And I was never supposed to meet you, Ørlā.
But I did.
In 2022, I wrote 7 letters to 7 people I love to death, this is the 8th letter — you’re 8th human I love to death. 8th human born on 8th.
Life is ridiculously fragile — a lightning strike, a flower pot falling on our head, a headbutt by a racing rhinoceros, 3am Kathmandu earthquake, choking on girlfriend’s birthday cake — Humans can drop-dead like a rough-cut diamond in a Bucket of Baileys.
So, why fear Death?
I know you often fear about things. All I will say is that all the terrible things that you may think of are all far from the Truth. And all the beautiful things you can think of are not even close to how beautiful it is to be with you. Everyday, I wake up next you, I feel calm, happy & blessed. You’re my Blonde Miracle.
Ørlā, I will always miss, always love Nitwit, Bikram, Dodo, ✰xíḉ⧷⋮, Tillu, Bõrshă, Baba, Dolly.
And whatever the hell happens to us, I will always miss & love Ørlā to death.
That’s not a promise, that’s plain truth. I don’t know how to unlove people. And I don’t ever want to know.
I’m flawed, so I know I will disappoint you. I will let you down. I will break your heart.
But I will never stop loving you & thinking of you super fondly till I’m alive & I will still miss you in Hell.
You will never be lost on me, Ørlā.
Gav — mostly terrible, sometimes terrific ;)
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