Missive and Miss You

 Letter from Sumeet to Nikhil

Hi Nikhil,

                Please accept my apologies for writing in so late. I hope you are back from your trek with no bones broken this time. As for my absence, there were some issues with our Tokyo factory and I had to be there to set things right. I know the engi-nerd (if you still identify yourself as one) in you would be keen to know about the details – but trust me, I have nothing to share on the technology front. Our employees in Japan are far too efficient to leave room for any concern of that sort. It was all about good old regulatory compliance. A few signatures here and there magically lifted the factory back on its feet.

                Anyway, do not think for a moment that I have forgotten about our next step. My earlier hesitation aside, like in my last letter, I assure you again – we must meet. It has been a good seven years since we started this written correspondence (RIP dear findpenpals dot com). Over these years, we have shared so many details about our lives – from favourite songs and dreadful movies to forgiven enemies and dead relatives (again, RIP findpenpals) – that it now seems alright to exchange a few words with you in person.

                As for the terms of our meeting – I cannot seem to find any. For obvious reasons, you might expect my company’s security to have an eye on us – even while we meet at the said cafe. But do not consider them obtrusive in any way. I have grown used to their hidden presence in public and it’s a total non-issue. No gifts shall be accepted (certainly no trinkets from your treks) and you’d be wise to not expect any from me either.

                I shall have to cut this letter short for I have another meeting to attend – this time, it’s Toronto that demands my attention.

Cheers, etc.

S

Letter from Nikhil to Sumeet

Respected Sumeet,

                Thanks for writing such a formal letter. As I had suspected right within the first few months of bumping into you on findpenpals, you have been bitten, naah… entirely consumed, by the corporate bug within just two years of leaving college. My trek went fine and, even with my forty-two years, I am quite proud of having my every bone intact. You had to be there to feel the fresh air and the sound of the river. Well done on the Tokyo magic though! I am not proud or anything – all you did was to scribble your name. Can’t wait to read your company’s media release boasting about how you tackled this monstrosity. Also, well done on the engi-nerd pun – your wealth continues to offer no help to your wordplay.

                Not a day goes by when I don’t offer condolences to the blessing that was findpenpals. It gave me the superpower to express my thoughts, and more importantly, offered me a friend – someone who flies across continents and still pays attention to the blotted features of my eventless life. Talking of which, remind me to tell you about a calendar that I saw during my last trek – it glows in the dark! I would have bought it for you but naah – what use does a rich boy have of trinkets from poor me?

                As for the meeting terms, I won’t mind your bodyguards as far as none of them sits between us on the café table. Would they mind if I get them some gifts? I got some bug-shaped bookmarks on my way back from the trek. As for a gift from you, nothing less than all the stocks of your company would be acceptable.

                I would have told you how thoroughly excited I am to finally meet you in person. But then, like Toronto operations wait for your attention, my pile of unwashed clothes waits for mine.

Yours in anticipation,

Nikhil

Meeting Day

Nikhil had been sitting at the café for about fifteen minutes since their designated meeting time. It was a small café offering nothing more than sandwiches, tea, and coffee. He had decided to reveal everything to Sumeet in person. This seven-year façade should not go on forever anyway. Having ordered his second cup of coffee, Nikhil’s anxious excitement was drifting out to give room to empty frustration. His eyes wandered to the café’s door once more. And yet again, he was disappointed. A girl in her late twenties was walking in. He wondered if maybe avoiding looking at the door would bring Sumeet in. He looked down at his cup of coffee and let out a small chuckle at the silliness of his thought.

“So you had not lied about laughing out aloud to yourself,” said the girl standing next to him.

“Excuse me?” Nikhil looked at her in surprise. She was wearing a rather plain-looking outfit with an ordinary bag hanging off her shoulder.

“You weren’t the only one making things up, Nikhil, if indeed that’s your real name. It’s me – rich boy. Not a boy, and not rich either – as you can guess from the absence of my security personnel,” said the girl with a grin.

“Wait, so… You are Sumeet? I mean you are... whoever you are? You were lying to me, this entire time?” asked Nikhil, still struggling to figure out his thoughts.

“Just as you were to me! You certainly aren’t the chirpy forty-two-year-old adventurer you claimed to be. I’d put you around twenty-eight? Did you really leave your job and go on solo treks funded by borrowed money? Also, this stunned silence speaks nothing about the quick-witted Nikhil that I was promised in the letters,” said the girl taking a seat opposite Nikhil.

“Stop making observations about me… and wait, what’s your name? Also, what do we do now?” asked Nikhil.

“We do what we have done in the past – share stories from our lives. Are you okay with that? And it’s Smita. Sumeet is my brother and it was our collective idea to sign up but then he lost interest in a matter of a few letters and it was all me after that. Shall we spend a moment in peace to pay respect to the death of the findpenpals website?” Smita asked and beckoned the waiter. “One coffee please.”

“Without sugar please,” said Nikhil still eyeing her suspiciously, “Yes, we can do all that. And yes, it was quite sad when they decided to shut down the website – I mean the fact that we’re both here after seven years of letter writing shows that what they tried was not an utter failure and yet…”

“True, and sad indeed. Not all things that work live forever, right? But hey, you remember about how I like my coffee. Now tell me all about the adventures from your last trek,” asked Smita.

“Umm, as for that, there was no trek – not the first, not the last. I work at a government-run library for poor kids – all my ‘adventures’ were snippets from the books that I read in the silence of the library. Sorry, but you can sue me – I guess that’s what a corporate type like you would do, right?” asked Nikhil, not quite eager to leave anymore.

“That can be arranged. But the corporate type sitting in front of you is actually just a struggling painter. I paint landscapes of cities and try to sell them at an art shop. So now you know what I meant by our operations at Tokyo and Toronto,” Smita smiled as she took the cup from the waiter.

“That was smartly done,” said Nikhil with a nod. “Talking of art, I know we had agreed on no gifts but still… here.” He took something out of his bag and kept it on the table. In the funkiest font, written on a table-top calendar were the words, “WHEN THE LIGHT GOES LOW, I GLOW!”

Smita took the calendar in her hands and let out a hearty laugh.