17 June 2016

So I have to start this letter by addressing the issue you spoke about regarding podcasts in India because if I don't, you'll think that I'm ignoring you and now that Kasha has left, you have nobody at home to listen to your whining. I'm pretty sure you'd sit Kasha down every morning and talk to her about how you felt and she was probably thinking 'bitch, shut up, and give me my treat so I can pretend to sleep so that you stop talking to me'.

Wow, I already went on a tangent there. But I think podcasts in India will be an uphill battle for us for some time. Unfortunately, kids still think that they have to sit in one spot and listen to podcasts. We still have to explain how a podcast works. Also, speaking from experience, I am aware that a fair amount of young kids in India spend more time adding filters to their latest WhatsApp display picture than spending their time productively. I really don't mean to generalize here, but I've dealt with my fair share of Indian kids and whether they do believe in a vision like ours or not, the majority are still not willing to learn and expand their brains. And now I can go off on another tangent on why this is, but I won't.

But I feel these letters give me the freedom to say how and what I feel, and this is honestly my opinion. Nothing would make me happier than to be proven wrong in this case.

Anyway, can we talk about me now?

There was only one thing I was looking forward to after my exams was over. Just one.

THE SUN.

The last 60 days in Prague have been glorious, the sun has been shining and cute little bubsies were playing in the park having ice cweaaaam. But now, when I do have the time to soak in some vitamin D, the weather Gods have decided to punish me with grey skies and a temperature of 12 degrees.

This is what I call punishment in high definition.

And now I'm leaving to Gibraltar tomorrow, and of course, I haven't even opened a suitcase and I still have two baskets of washing that needs to be done. I know this massively dissappoints you, and you probably have an itch right now to come to my room and do it all for me. This is why we need to live near each other. For this reason exactly.

Speaking of me leaving, I'll be gone to Sweden for TEN WHOLE DAYS.

THAT'S 240 HOURS.

WHICH IS 14,400 MINUTES.

How will you deal with that, Barb? It's a serious question. Because we spend almost every day together scripting, chatting, working and most importantly cracking hilarious jokes. Well, I crack the jokes and you're the annoying one reminding me to edit work every five minutes. It's not just that I won't have the chance to Skype you, I might not even be able to text you on WhatsApp because I have no idea when I will have access to Wi-Fi and I know just the thought of knowing this information makes you really anxious.

Not as anxious as you were before we spoke to Amandeep though. If I just watched your reaction before we had to speak to him without any context and without knowing who you were, I genuinely would have thought you were in labour and about to give birth. You were breathing as if you were trying to push a baby out - maybe three babies. I guess everyone deals with things differently, and I will always try and help you where I can, but this was just way out of my control. Nothing I would say to you would work, not even if i cracked a tatti joke. Yes, you really were that bad.

Anyway, I need to see your fat face in a couple of hours and before I do, I know you're going to ask me if I had written my Dear Barb letter and if I published the posts for feminismindia because even after you remind me, you think that you have to remind me again five minutes later. And once you've reminded me five minutes later, you will remind me before you sleep again because apparently I can memorise 400 page books for medical school but not remember your tasks. I'm not a goldfish, Barb!

What did I start this letter off with again?

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming....

Love,

Meenal