a letter (partly inspired by Hank Moody’s letter to Karen)


You don’t know me and I don’t know you either. But I just spent my last half an hour trying to figure out how to get my earnest message to you. I thought of speaking to you but I’ve always been better with written words and someone as stunning as you deserves only the best effort. Besides, I really don’t want to mess up this one chance. So I hope you don’t mind this quiet scribble instead.

You see, I was sitting a few metres away, completely lost in the pretty music on stage. I disconnected myself from everything else around and my thought entered a familiar place I much relished in. Then something miraculous happened. For some unfathomable reason, my eyes wandered off on their own and caught a glimpse of you. The sight of your back and the side of your face stole me from my Mind World into a totally new and different one. This strange realm had only two entities — the psychedelic music and the beauty of the partial view of yours. It drove me crazy. And I suspect the music was there only to make sure I still had a connection to the real world lest I became lost in your magical dimension for good.

I was dying for a moment when you’d turn to your left so I could admire you wholly. You never did. Not once. But I didn’t mind that. The novel world was too good to be true and I drowned myself in every single particle of it.

At certain rare moments in our short lives we are blessed enough to witness truly pristine and breathtaking beauty. During those moments the body and mind work in mysterious tandem, trying to match the beauty in front of us with an equivalent. For me, that equivalent was this unusual and excessive dose of courage that surged up my arteries like a rising tide on a full moon night. I knew this tide will come crashing down any time soon and I must act before that happens. So here I am, clutching my frozen muscles and consciously trying to breathe enough not to pass out in front of you. If you are actually reading these lines, then good for me.

It’s been a pretty long note and the songs have long died, but with the few drops of courage left I’d like to ask

Would you like to have dinner with me? All I’m asking for is a simple dinner and an interesting conversation, both of which I believe we’ll be able to enjoy should your answer be,


Sincerely yours,

A hungry soul hoping to find the same spectacular beauty in your mind as that I’ve been admiring for the past half an hour.


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