Love, Unbordered

27/07/2017: I wake up to the birds chirping, pull my curtains apart, and close my eyes as the sun rays hit me. I freshen up, grab my daily dose of coffee and head out on my regular morning walk, just like any other day. But today isn’t ‘just another day.’ The feeling crept to me slowly, as if it was unreal. It’s been 10 years since my grandma, “naani” as I fondly called her, passed away.

I passed by the iconic ‘Giani’ Ice-cream Parlour, which used to solve our midnight cravings crisis. Good old days when the two of us would sneak out, tip toeing across, cautious to not wake mom and dad, on freezing winter nights, just for our chocolate ice-cream! My 8-year old self looked up to naani as a superhero who permitted and furthermore enjoyed doing crazy things with me. Things that mom and dad would frown upon. “It’s these little things that actually end up making big moments. Don’t forget to cherish these”, naani would say. I couldn’t help but smile. Even the thought of her made me so happy. I’d even say she was the epitome of joy.

I come back home, nostalgic. I open the dusty box of things that she’d left behind for me. The box I’d never mustered the courage to open all these years. I see a bunch of letters, and an old, rusty earring. Surprisingly, all the letters were addressed to a particular “Noor.” Assuming Noor was Naani’s close friend, I opened the one dated 16th August 1947. It read:

“My love,

I know this won’t reach you soon, although I wish it could, this very minute. The thought of never seeing you again is haunting me already. It is driving me crazy. All I have left of you is that lone earring that I managed to steal when it fell off that day at Shehzaad Bhai’s wedding. The day I first caught sight of you. The day my heart started craving for nothing but you. I don’t know how it is at Pakistan. I won’t be at peace until I hear from you.”

My heart sank. Fumbling, I picked up the letter dated 25th April 1948. The day Nana and Naani got married.

“Noor, my love,

I’m getting married today. To a man who’s unknown. To a person who’s not you. I know I can never love anyone but you. I don’t know if this one’s going to reach you, or bounce back just like the 100 other letters I’d written to you. I hope the universe works in my favour today. I just want you to know that my love for you shall live even after I take my last breath.”

I storm out of my room, startling mom and dad. “Natasha, are you fine?” both of them ask simultaneously.

“Mom, dad. There’s something you need to know.”

“What is it, sweetie? You look perplexed.”

“I’m Bisexual. And I’m more inclined to women”

Both of them freeze. I know it’s going to take them some time to process what I’d just said. They might even flip. Nevertheless, my world was about to change, over time, into one of acceptance, new beginnings and happiness that I’ve been struggling to get to. This moment is one where I shed off my fears to the society and its norms, the moment I’ll always want to savour. Words can’t put together how wholesome and new it all feels.

I glance at naani’s picture across the hall. I grin, finally knowing what she meant every time that she said, “Natasha, you and I? We’re a lot like each other.”