Orientation

Dearest Ketaki,

How are you today? I miss home ferociously today. Tooth and nail and claw. Like stubborn root and grasping tendril. I work intensely these days. You remember that autobiography of Charlie Chaplin that we read? He said, "In work lies orientation. All else is chimerical." I believed that for a long time, Ketaki. I believed that if I could just find some work that interested me, I would be stuck in it, body and mind and soul. And that's true, Ketaki, sometimes. But not always. Not always.

It is one thing to do whatever work I'm given, with honesty and sincerity and all the intelligence I possess; it is another thing to do it thousands of miles from home. Then the work is just the name of the flight all of us take to pretend that the flight passengers are old friends. And that we have found meaning, because we have found fellow travellers who have the same destination. But only till the terminal, Ketaki. And from the airport we go our different ways.

I enjoy my work, Ketaki, don't get me wrong. I like losing myself in day to day problems. I like knowing a little more each day, becoming slowly more critical, more significant in the scheme of this little world. But it's such a cold, cocooned little world, it's almost a grave. And today, I miss those who would come in love, to lay flowers on my grave, if only they knew the location. So I'm telling you today. Come find me today, bring chrysanthemums, whisper a prayer into the cold, rest me in peace.

Write me a line, Ketaki, mail me your fragrance, because I miss you so.

Love,
Arnab