The polythene post

There was much to say. To formulate words that would fall on ears unseen to the mortal world. Words that would beg for a vocal response. A smile unblurred, a frown well-contoured. How would I ever tell him, the story of my escapades in school? How would I ever know what he thought of his little emboldened girl ogling the finer versions of the male species? How would I ever see the appreciative slant of his eyebrows as I gracefully mingled limbs to conjure the most exquisitive of classical repertoires?
I wondered whether he just knew? Was he omniscient like God himself that he did not need me to tell him? Was he watching when I thought he was not? These were the questions rankling my thought devices.
I gazed at the portrait on the wall. I run hither-thither and the eyes follow me. I hide behind a couch and peer through a gap. He still sees me.
Would he answer me if I asked? Maybe I could write a letter. But I had to post it somewhere and give it an address. I knew the place but did not know the exact address. I decided I would take a chance. I ran to my shelf, produced a notebook and tore off two sheets of lined paper.
Selecting the royal blue ink pen I used in school, I set myself pouring my heart out. That I had finally made it among the top five in the class, that I had scored a 39 out of 40 in Mathematics, that I had been rejected for the elocution contest and was sore about it, that my best friend had started speaking to me again, that I still went to dance class though I had to go by bus instead of taxi (how I hated it), that I still ate a lot of rice and was fat, that mother had started going to office and so when I came back from school she wouldn't be there to feed me, and last and not least I still suckled at my fingers and was scared my teeth would protrude and make me really ugly! I wrote willingly and shamelessly, transforming feelings into words, which smudged as tears and ink mingled.
After it was done, I perused the written carnage cringing as every blatant revelation evoked shame and fear.
But he had to know. Now to post it! I thought of just flinging it out of the window. But then there lurked a possibility of someone reading it. I couldn't let that happen. I returned to my shelf and rummaged through my water colour collection looking for black.
Having found it, I chose the fattest brush possible and set about shabbily painting my letter. The intention was to hide the words, so the letter now looked like a black canvas, a visible blank but behind which lurked the murk of my being.
Selecting an envelope I inserted the letter and deposited it inside a blue polythene bag. Then I attached a piece of string to it and flinged it outside the balcony.
Thankfully the wind was strong and it carried the bag high into the wide blue sky. I squinted at the unfathomable expanse above till just a speck is visible. It was safe. It would reach him that day itself.
So thinking I scooted off from the scene.


To my father,
Subhash Chandran
Heaven, Sky, c/o God.