Dear T.B Rex

SCRIPT

Dear T.B. Rex,

I am doing okay, I guess.

The times are strange, aren’t they?

Seems as if time stopped somewhere but not entirely. Reality somewhere got in the way of this time freeze, and we were all meant to continue life the way it was before the ‘uninvited guest’ entered our livelihoods.

I am not entirely sure how this year went by. Hopefully, I will have something to reminisce about by the end of the month. Perhaps there were some things I would remember fondly.

I wanted to write to you about how things have changed since we last met. I recall having seen you years ago. Change is inevitable; I feel as if we both must have changed tremendously over time. However, the places we went to seem to be the same, still as ever; accompanied by the bustling noise of human feet and roaring of engines. Buildings broke down, people shifted their houses, but the trees remain. The incredibly beautiful trees, which would fall over the roadside oh so gracefully.

From the days of our running around in school, eating Nutella and bread to going for dance classes together. I remember it all. Do you? Life seemed easy; always fun.

I went by your old house. Walking distance from my old house. Equidistant from dance class. Getting to places was so much easier back then. My best friend of 3 years was only a short walk away from me. Now my closest friends live thousands of kilometres away, attending college in the UK or the United States. It would be tiresome to travel all the way to eat Nutella and bread with them, wouldn’t it?

I remember seeing you four years ago. While visiting Auroville, my class happened to chance upon you and a few friends. You had grown. You looked so different from the unruly 12 -year -old who would make silly faces at me nonstop. Your eyes remained. The sky colours in your eyes had always been the same, like the afternoon blue hues of Bangalore. I was too astonished to say anything. So, I remained silent.

I realised I had grown too.

So much has happened, it is difficult to jot down all my thoughts. When I recall my life since middle school, all I see are blurry miscalculations of what I think might be another important memory.

Maybe I can fast- forward to who I am now. Give you a little brief of how I’m doing in the craze of today’s world.

I am average height. I have slender arms and legs, my eyes are bright, if I stand in the sun, one can see a chocolate brown colour emerge from them. I changed my hair; it’s curly and wavy now. People say I have a nice smile. I think so too. I tried to resume dance classes during the lockdown but stopped soon after college began. I am an aspiring designer, curious to see how I can facilitate the field of education with my current knowledge in the institutional world. I sing, play the guitar, I paint and write from time to time. I love eating and sleeping – two of my proudest, yet worst hobbies. I am currently learning that if I focused more on introspection, I won’t blame the external world as much for my problems. I found happiness in looking at caterpillars and butterflies every evening while drinking coffee. I realised how much my mind can stray from the present and am practicing bringing it back to said time. Right now, all I can think about, is the past that I shared with you. I am not as carefree as I used to be. I am shy, nervous, stressed from time to time, wishing I did not have to be in a hurry to get work done and let it affect all the things which I aspire to do. As I sit in my father’s study and write this letter, I realise how much I want to go back to those simpler times.

I hope everything is okay, wherever you are. I hope you are happy, with friends, family, lovers. I hope you remember to drink water and hydrate yourself every once in a while, and eat Nutella and bread just for kicks. I hope you enjoy what you are doing, to the fullest and embrace everything around you. I find I cannot write anything more. I suppose the letter finally comes to an end.

Goodbye for now.