Letting Go

Dear LSR,

You've been like a boyfriend to me. In these three years, I've changed around you. Grown into a fuller, better person, without realising how much you've shaped me. When I first saw you, I was told it would be magical. Every woman in this country wanted you, yet I was lucky enough to be that special one. And I experienced a great sense of smugness and pride, because I knew I had deserved you. To be a part of you, and to have you as a part of my life, was truly magical.

There were, however, times you let me down. When you led me to believe you had smooth-talked me into this; that it was all a facade you had created around yourself, to get women like me to fall for your superficial charm. Where was the space you had promised to provide me, which would allow me to explore myself and my potential? There were days when I felt smothered and suffocated by your overwhelming presence. Dictating the terms, circumscribing my efforts. I would tell my friends you're fucking me over, that I want out. That it was all a big mistake, choosing to be in this, when I had had no dearth of options.

But today, when I look back, I smile. I remember the winter strolls in the backlawns, the lazy summer afternoons, the macaroni and cheese at the cafeteria, the prom nights, the Nescafé dates, the class-bunks and the mass-bunks, the tea and cigarettes, and the songs I sang for you during Tarang. There were nights you kept me up, to finish off what we had started, and those nights were wonderful. Specially knowing I'd wake up in the morning to you.

Those nights may never return. Tomorrow morning, I may wake up somewhere else, to someone else. But today, when I look back, I wonder. You've been an inextricable part of my life, made me who I am today. Making me strive to excel, to live up to your expectations, teaching me, marking me, encouraging me, holding my hand. Lecturing me over marxist tenets and feminist ideals, you've influenced me considerably. In a small way, in a great way. Leaving you will be hard, and moving on, harder. Someone else will take my place, but remember me like I will always remember you.

I'm sorry for the times I've been harsh and overly critical of you. I'm sorry for the times I've asked for too much. But it’s never too late to put the pettiness behind and make up. Because I know that I may leave you, but you’ll stay with me, since I’ll carry a part of you when I go.

Yours forever

Your girlfriend

Bhavika