There'sALetterFor-28Feb2021

There's a Letter For... (International Anthology) Edited By Balakirthika Jayakumar

There's a Letter For...

Conceptualised by Ms Meena Mishra

Compiled & edited by Ms Balakirthika jayakumar

There's a Letter For... (International Anthology) 1st eBook Edition The Impish Lass Publishing House Published: 2021 Copyright: The Impish Lass Publishing House There's a Letter For...(International Anthology) is a work of fiction. The names, incidents and characters portrayed in it are the product of the authors’ imagination and their personal experiences and opinions. Any resemblance with actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved in all media. No part of this publication can be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, without the written permission of the authors. It is the writers’ /poets’ responsibility to ensure that their WORK is free and clear of any counts of libel, plagiarism, breach of privacy or misrepresentation of facts. The Publishing House is not responsible for it. The writers can be challenged in Mumbai High Court in case of plagiarism.

There's a Letter For... (International Anthology) 1st eBook Edition The Impish Lass Publishing House Published: 2021 Copyright: The Impish Lass Publishing House Cover page design Ms Yutika Bhansali eBook Design by Ms Balakirthika Jayakumar Published at - The Impish Lass Publishing House © Copyrights Reserved

Contents Foreword 02 From the Editor 03 There's a Postcard For.. 05



Contents 16 1 Dipika Nayyar 2 Arjun Jayakrishna 22 3 Vidhya 25 4 Archana Sriram 30

5 Dr Dipima Buragohain 36 6 Shwetha Ramachandran 38 7 Madhuram Prabhakar 41 8 Yashaswi Sekhar 46

9 Nisha Tandon 50 58 10 Pranesh 64 11 Sneha Gosain 70 12 Chris Hemingway

13 Anish Jayakrishna 73 14 Kaushik Selva Dhanush Ravi 79 15 Dhriti Sriram 82 16 Vijayalaxmi Buttu 90

17 Niveditha Kannan 93 18 Rameswari Kubendran 95 19 Pooja Sant 102 20 Pradeepa 106

21 Aarush Kumar 112 22 Kiron Khira 115 23 Alekhya 118 24 Balakirthika Jayakumar 124

24 Yutika Bhansali 130 25 Meena Mishra 133

01 Just as we now rely on wireless networks and microchips to do our heavy lifting, earlier generations used homing pigeons to deliver their messages across long distances.

02 Foreword Anthology has been The Impish Lass Publishing House’s pet child. This has given a platform to many aspiring writers. It has tapped the potential of many latent writers. It has through this venture lent a helping hand and made them realise the author and/or poet in them. They have enjoyed the same thoroughly and are pursuing this blissful journey. This Anthology is the brain child of Ms Meena Mishra, CEO, The Impish Lass Publishing House to provide opportunity to Indian community living outside India. The vision has attracted an American Librarian cum author-poet to contribute his creation too. This is just a baby step in the international forum which sure is going to set its branches spreading across far and wide. The theme has been an open one – There’s a Letter for…..As one flips through the e-book. I am sure one is going to be mesmerized by the diversity it carries. Happy Reading

03 From the Editor First of all, I take this opportunity to thank Ms Meena Mishra, CEO, The Impish Lass Publishing House for trusting me and giving me this role which I thoroughly enjoyed. I recently moved to Switzerland with my family and through this assignment could not only find friends in Switzerland but across the world. It gave immense satisfaction rendering this responsibility. It has been a great learning interacting with the authors of this anthology. Each has an amazing profile associated with them and the responsibilities they are currently into or have been into is exhilarating. Their contribution is equally unique. I can vouch that they are in a dimension that will make you wonder – could letter be looked upon this way also. There are letters of gratitude, letters of admiration, letters of imagination, letters of experiences, letters to finches, to eagle, to corona, to aspiring youth, to emotions, to the country which housed them and many more which you would not have even imagined… The contributing authors are from as small an age as 10 to seasoned professionals interspersed with high school students, college students, new professionals, entrepreneurs and what not. Their experiences are a treasure to ponder upon.

04 I also take this opportunity to thank each of the contributing authors who took their precious time out to share their pondered memoirs to the world of readers. Finally, my thanks are due to the ever-helping multi-talented youth Ms Yutika Bhansali, my buddy editor, who spontaneously has been through this maiden journey of mine making my task as easy as possible. Editor Balakirthika Jayakumar

04 In 2005, more than 80 mostly teenaged migrants were abandoned on a boat off the coast of Costa Rica. Left on the crippled vessel by the crew who was illegally smuggling the passengers, they were adrift without any means of typical communication. They ingeniously popped an SOS into a bottle, which was soon miraculously found by fisherman, who then delivered the message of \"Please help us\" to the denizens of a nearby World Heritage site island. The workers there alerted their headquarters, the lost- at-sea drifters were rescued, and the group was taken to the island to recover.

05 There's a Postcard For...

06 Dear mysterious alley (near my primary school), You have always made me wonder where you would take me through that magical land of thick forest, dark green tree lines and wildflowers neglected for ages, which imbibed in me vibes with the best of fantasies, imaginations, ruins, remnants. I can't thank you enough for that precious mess. Rightfully yours, A forever intrigued soul Dipima Buragahoin

07 Dear Sambhar, You bring out the best in me. No one will want 'just' me; your delectable medley of spices and veggies complements my plain and simple nature. Forever yours, Idly Pooja Sant

08 Dear Sunset, I remember your face as I picked seashells along the beach by the lighthouse in the lazy days of the hot summer of my childhood. The mornings were warm and the unmistakable smell of magic filled the air. You looked bright, your gaze was long, and your intentions clear. I miss that wink of an eye and the eternal smile magically for the eyes to see. As I reflect on the past and it’s lessons shown, I will never forget the memories you left behind and the dawn of the mist along the distant shore shown forth for all to see. Yours Old Friend Chris Hemingway

09 Dear Midnight Snack, You were the reason I was hungry almost every night , well past the midnight! The tempting sandwich of Haldiram Bhujia and ketchup in two slices of bread. My poor younger sister. I bullied her every night to go make it for me lest I die of hunger!! Haha ...Mmmm... yummy, my mouth drools even today... so I have decided to stop writing right now and raid the kitchen!! Yours Truly The Hungry Soul Nisha Tandon

10 Dear Body I didn't take care of you all this while. I am sorry that I called you fat or thin without realizing how much I hurt you. I fed you poison that did you no good. Now that I understand what nourishes you well, I will take good care to feed you the best. I have realized that strength is all that matters not how you look. I will keep you active and help you gain your strength. Let's work together to create a healthy body till life lasts. Yours Sincerely The Conscience Shwetha Ramachandran

11 Dear Pandemic Stalwarts My dear pandemic stalwarts. I salute you my dependable team. How would I have survived without your support? As the pandemic closed around us and morphed into lockdown Mr Rogers (iRobot vacuum) and Miss Mary (Brava mop) you have diligently and incessantly worked day in and day out keeping our house dust free and floors clean and shiny. No complaints, no negotiation no expectations of rewards. You have been examplary. I have tried to keep track of your charging needs and ensured clean mopping cloths and tangle free brushes. That's the least I could have done . You even amused me with you sing song chime at the end of a job well

12 done. You mapped the rooms and followed schedule. Your needs were minimal. What can I say, except that I'm really grateful for your support. You have made the lockdown, the isolation bearble and doable .I have realized that strength is all that matters not how you look. I will keep you active and help you gain your strength. Let's work together to create a healthy body till life lasts. Sincerely A Grateful and Loving Owner Dipika Nayyar

13 Dear Childhood, if I had really known your value when I was kid, I would have really enjoyed spending time with my parents rather than watching TV, I would have enjoyed my grandma's bed time stories with even more attention , and would have not fought with my brother rather I would have taken very good care of him. Those days counting stars on the way back from tuition, and Jimmy my little cat , forgetting homework book used to be the most horrible day at school , and showing progress card on the last moment before going to school to dad to escape scolding from him, (which is anyway received at the evening ), and many more. Those are very precious

14 moments which you have given me, which makes me smile even today. Thank you for the wonderful memories... if time machine ever exists , please take me back to those days ... Yours lovingly, Kid (from the past)... Alekhya

15 Dear Heart Was it her classic bollywood entry that made you flutter or it was just you being fragile and lonely. Yours lovingly, Unrequited Love Dear Achaar(Pickle), Thank you for not letting me go to bed hungry when momma used to sautée Tinda in the kitchen. Yours lovingly, Yutika Bhansali Just another Teenager

Dipika Nayyar 16 Dipika Nayyar was born in Allahabad (Prayag) in the state of UttarPradesh in India. She did her schooling from St. Mary's Convent, Allahabad andBachelor's in Political Science from Lady Shri Ram College, Masters from Hindu college in New Delhi. In 1994 she immigrated to Canada with her husband and children. She has worked in a hospice for 13 years and palliative care is her passion and mission. She continues to work in healthcare. She currently makes her home in Toronto, Ontario with her husband and three adult children. The Creative Journey This project was remarkably interesting. It spoke to my soul, it tugged at my inner song and it brought out emotions that were latent and buried under pressures of time, business, work, and family obligations. It was a meditative process and creative in its being. It was healing in its journey and fulling in its rewards. I am not a poet, nor do I have any training to write or do poetry. I let my heart guide my pen and the words pour. My gratification is sincerity to my inner being. I applaud the creativeness of team The Impish Lass whose vision has helped me fly on the wings of emotions of joy, love, and creativity. Such opportunities are special and rare. Thank you for allowing me to be part of this anthology.

17 The Beauty of Love 20th January 2021 Mississauga, ON, Canada Dear Family: To Us! Energies pure, warm, and free flow Unfettered and free, find similar trees. Anchors in life, families of love to perch on, Bring together and create relationships that are meaningful and deep. Such magic happened, that brought us all together, Lightened our faces and brightened our lives. Blessings poured for our children and their new togetherness in life. Happy are we for the joy our children have brought to us, And also, to have found in you a friend, family and common values and culture. To cherish and to hold, what is special and worth its weight in gold. Such sublime joy comes only from children in this circle of Life. We toast to their happiness and send wishes for love to grow and abound. Whether challenges or travails but always remain strong. To Us we cheer and pat ourselves on our back, for a job so well done of which we deserve a part. Dipika Nayyar

18 The Naked Truth 20th January 2021 Mississauga, ON, Canada Dear Life: I have been wanting to send this letter to you for a while. I have written to you innumerable times with the invisible pen and paper of the mind. There is resistance and then there is fear. Surprises weave the delicate fabric of life, unknown in its myriad shades, secretive like the earth, vibrant as a rainbow and quiet as the falling snow. In a corner, tucked away, where one would never look, a surprise lurks, finding the right moment to pop up - joy, grief, sorrow, ecstasy, fun boredom, all are our shades of surprises. I have my own special surprise - the memories of my mother, locked in little tight tiny chests, tucked away in far, far lands waiting for the Easter bunny treasure hunt to be unearthed. And then, I smile. A shiver runs down my spine as the warmth of ‘Ma’ caresses me and embraces me for a fleeting moment. Alas! It is gone. I wait again for the Jack in the box to pop up. I savour the memory of that moment that has an aura of purity, a halo of piousness.

19 I sat alone in the solitude of my walk-in closet, away from the intrusion of children or the disapproval of those around. This was my solitude, my sanctuary as I stared at a curly lock of hair and a bit of ash. Was this all I have of ‘Ma’, I thought aloud as my emotions released a torrent of tears streaking down my cheeks. I can still vividly recall that bright sunny day in February when I bade my final goodbye, knowing in my heart that this was it and I would never see my ‘Ma’, again. The date is etched in memory – Feb 2000. I had gone to India to visit my parents. It was not my normal fun filled relaxing vacation. My mother was in her last stages of cancer. Vivid memories vie for attention. I remember as I sat on the edge of the bed, held her hand, looked into her hazel brown soft eyes and softly said, “Ma you will have to go. I love you dearly, but please let go of me and go in peace.” That was it ‘The Naked Truth.’ The worst was over. We held each other closely, so close, and tight that I could feel the softness of her skin and smell her motherly breath. In that clasp she gave me her love, blessings, and a promise to be with me for ever. I spent a few wonderful days with her, laughing, joking and just being silly, sharing moments that are so special to a daughter. We held hands and walked in the garden

20 where she paused and showed me her Aloe plant which she had proudly planted and nurtured. It was a last gift to her from her father and now she lovingly gave it to me. On one of these days, I promised to make breakfast. My mother fretted as my father was getting late for work. However, I was totally relaxed. Finally, unable to contain her anxiety my mother asked me to lay breakfast soon. “Breakfast is ready,” I proudly announced. The bewildered expression on my parent’s face was a picture-perfect moment. On each one’s plate sat a washed fresh sliced and seasoned with masala guava from my garden. No parathas or idlis, or sandwiches, upma or any other savoury delight. This was my version of breakfast! Soon after in a couple of months my mother passed away losing her battle and her struggle with life. This loss was devastating. A part of me died. I wanted to grieve. I read all the right books and followed advise of grief counsellors, joined support groups, and did art therapy. The truth is, I was scared to grieve, to admit to the Naked Truth. ‘Will I lose her,’ I could not get past this thought. I held on to her every minute. Life continues but I am lost! Dear Life, I owe it to you for allowing me to keep her memories alive, for allowing me to let go of her but still have her to talk to, to love, adore

21 and seek advise. Am I making sense? So dear Life, do hold my hand and walk with me, the difficult journey of grieving a loss. I end with a heartfelt tribute to my dear mother. You have lived a life so rich and complete We look at you for inspiration and some tips You radiate a calmness, a beauty divine Your purity shines through and always brightens your every act and action We ask you to bless us to guide us as we walk To hold our hand if we miss a step and falter or fall Being your children has been our fortune delight Revelling in your love has made our life complete and bright. With love and zest for life I have shared my truth with you. Yours truly, Dipika Nayyar

Arjun Jayakrishna 22 Arjun Jayakrishna is a fifteen-year-old boy from Ontario, Canada, who is of South Indian descent. He was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba, to two loving parents. Ever since he was but a young boy, Arjun was always interested in technology—namely, website creation and logic-based computer programming. He currently programs primarily in C and C#, though he will be learning Python, one of the most useful and in-depth languages for artificial intelligence (AI), in the next semester of the school year. In February 2020, Arjun participated in the Junior level of the Canadian Computing Contest, a nation-wide programming competition for high school students. Arjun also enjoys attempting to solve complex logic problems with his father, a knowledgeable software engineer. Arjun likes speed cubing, the practice of solving the Rubik’s cube (and its other variations) as fast as possible. He has competed in two national competitions for it. Arjun has a younger brother who is ten years old, in the fifth grade; the two love to play games, such as chess, cards, and much more. Both of them competed in the Spelling Bee of Canada competition, and Arjun won second place for his age division. It should also be noted that Arjun played the violin in an orchestra for three years before he took a hiatus due to his high school no longer offering a music program for string instruments. Arjun loves to listen to music, especially the genres of pop, hip hop, R&B, and more, with artists such as Eminem and The Weekend being personal favourites.

23 The sonnet is a type of poem that has fourteen lines and follows the iambic pentameter, meaning each line is made up of ten syllables. There are two forms of sonnets—the Elizabethan sonnet and the Petrarchan sonnet—each of which follow different rhyme schemes and stanza arrangements. The poem, entitled Computers, is an Elizabethan sonnet, meaning it is comprised of three quatrains and a couplet and uses the \"ABAB CDCD EFEF GG\" rhyming pattern. It should also be noted that this sonnet is about technology; specifically, it goes over the advantages and disadvantages of it on a personal, familial, and global scale.

24 Computers To the people whose life revolves around Computers The scaled red snake, its fangs bit through young me The backing drugs go through me day by day But I give howls like wolves, to death go trees So wasn’t it all but just of nought or nay? My father followed paths and such, as I He walks across our border, not within The lights go bright—the truth’ll never lie But was it good at all without his kin? The code assists us through the blue and green So savour our sereneness ‘long the space We aren’t in need of arms or legs or bone So why at all is Earth in need of race? The last of bits of badly pos’tive things Will make us better or’ll death it bring Arjun Jayakrishna

Vidhya 25 Vidhya is a free-spirited person. She was among 20 students selected from around the world and was the only Indian in her batch, chosen to pursue a master’s study in Europe with a full scholarship. Just in those 2 years, she lived in 5 different countries. Throughout her life she has been a nomad having studied in 6 different schools in various cities across South India. Having moved to Europe more than a decade ago, she decided to make her home in Switzerland after completing her PhD there. She is an avid reader, a passionate cook and has her own kitchen garden. She is committed to a sustainable lifestyle, composting her bio-waste in her back yard, traveling by cycle or public transport where possible and lives in an energy efficient home. She has travelled to 30+ countries. She enjoys learning about new cultures. Currently she has dual responsibility - as head of environment of a multi-national company and as a new mum. Writing is a hidden passion that peeps out occasionally.

26 A Letter To My Teacher Dear Chandra Madam, I can vividly imagine you reading this letter, sitting on a comfortable chair located at a well-lit corner of a room, with your charming smile intact. I guess your amazing South Indian filter coffee and your marker pens aren't far from you either. I am thrilled to have found your mailing address after so many years. How have 20 years disappeared? It was at the turn of the millennium in the year 2000, you and I had parted ways. You had decided to pursue your passion for writing and had resigned from teacher job at our school. You were (still are) my favorite teacher, and the news of your resignation had shattered me. On your last day at our school, I recall standing teary- eyed in front of the staff-room. I had waited patiently to hand to you the farewell card on behalf of our 8th-grade class while you packed your belongings. You had a small, well-lit desk beside the only window in the staff-room. Your desk was a busy space covered with binders, colorful markers, and post-it notes. It had been my favorite activity to peep through that only

27 staff-room window and observe your varied expressions while you assessed our weekly submissions. On many occasions, I had spotted you with a raised eyebrow, a wide smile, or heard a peal of surprised laughter as you pored through our essays. On that day, as I stood waiting for you, I made up my mind that I wanted to become a well-respected, joyful woman like you in my adulthood. I wanted to be passionate and enjoy each day as you did. Before you left for home with your belongings, you embraced me gently and gave me an envelope. I recall the beautiful green envelope with my name written on top of it. \"Read this after you are home and take good care of yourself, young lady,\" you said with a tender pat on my shoulder. I was angry and exasperated as I walked back home, I had not only lost my favorite teacher but also a trustworthy confidant in a day. In the previous two years as our English teacher, you had brought out the best in me with your encouragement and kindness. Your very first lecture to our class was a memorable one. You had charmed us with your cheerful demeanor and natural charm/allure/appeal, despite it being the post-

28 lunch snoozing hour. Since that first lecture, till your very last, your enthusiasm and dedication had never waned. I was eager to be noticed by you and worked hard on all the assignments. In the subsequent weeks and months, you inadvertently took on the role of my mentor. Through the various writing assignments, I shared my deepest secrets and dreams with you. I wonder if you recall the colorful pop-out remark boxes you drew on our written assignments. I had never before or ever after felt the intense joy of receiving feedback. As your feedback was well-meaning, sincere, and often witty. I would have liked to believe that I was the only privileged one to have received such detailed feedback, but you made a similar effort with all your students. It was your impartial nature that made me admire you the most. No topic was out of bounds during our discussions, and you never made me feel that my teenage musings were pointless. You gave me daily challenges such as summarizing the day's news or made me solve the newspaper's crossword puzzles. You said it was your way of keeping my clever mind engaged. I can't thank you enough for making me feel important and worthy of your time.

29 To this day, I treasure the farewell letter you had written to me. Your words had a profound impact on my life and the decisions I have since taken. You had mentioned in the letter that I played an important part in your life and that you had learned a lot from me as well. The honest outpourings I shared with you had helped you overcome some of your midlife crises. Further, you wrote that our lunch-time discussions had helped you think beyond the mundane staff politics. You advised me to never forget my journey and to keep the child in me alive. Whenever I reach a milestone in life, I reflect on the journey and feel immense gratitude. If I hit a roadblock, I retrace my steps and try again with childlike enthusiasm. These two traits have helped me forge ahead with confidence. I am so thankful to have had you as my mentor at a crucial stage in my life journey. Every little success of mine also belongs to you. I guess you have started to add colorful pop-out boxes to this letter. I am waiting eagerly for your feedback. Your forever indebted student.

30 Archana Sriram Archana Sriram hails from Bengaluru. She did a part of her schooling in Chennai. She went back to Bengaluru for her under-graduation study and work. She started her career as a Software Consultant. Then as her family expanded and demanded she became the raft of the family and had to compromise on her work. Archana is currently juggling between teaching, corporate work, and Chinmaya Mission Seva in Hong Kong. Like Alice in Wonderland, she is amazed, always in awe by almost anything be it art, gardening, hiking, listening to Vedanta…. She is intrigued when she sees toddlers and their expressions. However, she does not enjoy reading about Economics or Finance as much as using it.

31 Hiking in Hongkong \"There’s a letter for you amma!”, voiced my brother as he left to work. Amma in all eagerness and excitement sat down to read and absorb every word. Amma doesn’t prefer to browse rather loves to read and get information from letters and articles. She feels she is chatting with the writer. 'Dear amma,’ the letter began… ‘Safe. Hope to hear the same’. Amma was relieved to see the first word. She wished safety of everyone, “swasthi”. Though we no longer write in this mode, since amma preferred it, I loved to write it translated in English like we do in vernacular languages. Now she got eager to read the content and is no more anxious. Hong Kong is a beautiful city. Don’t imagine it as a concrete jungle of buildings as they show you on TV. It has nature in abundance where we

32 can go on hikes from any part of the city. When one walks as much as 5 minutes away from the main busy roads, one can enter the calm, peaceful, nature filled hiking track. Amma was thoughtful. What can you actually see in a hike other than some trees? Won’t one get lost or get bored she wondered. She read on to find out. ‘We, along with some friends, have begun trying hiking whenever possible. As you know, Hong Kong has two parts - the island side and the peninsula side. The island side hikes have a view of buildings, mountains and sea while the peninsula side can give an uninterrupted view of nature. We decided to have a hiking Diwali party! So, armed with a lot of food, water and enthusiasm we started off with a small bus ride to the ferry pier. We thought we were on time but there was a long queue to buy the tickets. Hence now we thought we had missed the 8:20am ferry but to our delight - phew we made it.’ Amma wondered - she said it is hike and where did the ferry come from? How do you hike in a ferry? She was curious now. Appa was calling out to her but amma had no ears for appa as all eyes were on the letter.

33 ‘The ferry ride was for almost an hour and a half and we were dropped at the base of the hiking spot. Never had we imagined it would be a hike up the mountain. We had chosen a beach area so that we didn't have to lug so much luggage, but we were in for a surprise. Nevertheless, with doubled spirits we climbed up to find a perfect spot for our tents and lo another surprise - the place was already filled with campers. We had no choice but to climb up further and luckily after an hour found a good spot and rested our bags and backs. The children who were a little tired by the climb now got rejuvenated by playing. The view was superb. We were perched in the middle with one side overlooking a vast expanse of South China sea and another as an inlet to a cove of dashing water. Apart from our chatter all we could hear was the chirping of the birds and wave - no din of the city motors.’ ‘All blew enthusiasm into the balloons to decorate the tiny gazebo and tents – our picnic spot – along with streamers. We wished everyone a very Happy Deepavali by lighting a candle! The surprise games and competitions along with feet tapping to some fresh beats by the kids added fun to the party. Oh my God, the grown-ups were literally kids in all the games fighting for points and trying to covet the prizes. The food galore – a big feast – treat to the eye, stomach and heart.'

34 “Time to go to the beach”, kids called out while the dads had just decided to doze…’din of the city motors.’ ‘The innovative beach games attracted the other visitors to play audience, enjoy the sport and help us take group pictures. The toddlers headed to the beach while we hiked up the pretty flora and fauna path enjoying the flutter of butterflies to see the war time relics of WW1. We all met up right on time to catch the ferry back. Reached home by dusk as your dear granddaughter had stayed behind to complete her homework.’ What?! Leaving the child behind for a hike? What is this girl up to? Amma was annoyed. She read on planning to teach me a lesson in her reply letter. ‘Amma, my darling, don’t you worry. You told me to send her to the hostel - isn’t she safer at home? Now, let me do some stretches before it starts to ache tomorrow while I am at work. See you amma. Will post more about city life in my next letter. Till then, enjoy the pictures of the hike and I am sure you will start exercising to make yourself fit for such hikes when you visit us here.’