Dear Anonymous Reader,
Hello! How are you? Doing good I hope? In the pink of health, wealth and all things beautiful? Capital!
You might be wondering why I am writing to you, out of the blue. But you see, I had to.
I cannot explain to you what you mean to me. I’ve always had fans. They came, they read and silently departed. They were not only shy, they were insubstantial. Apart from their anonymous footprints showing up under the infra- red glow of my blog stats, they were all but indistinguishable. Somewhat like you, my dear anonymous reader. But there the similarity ends.
The admiration of all those other fans had a sadly and remarkably short shelf life. Very perishable, if you know what I mean. Painfully reminiscent of butterflies, here today, there tomorrow and utterly gone the day after. Not the kind of thing one can build upon. Nothing you could rest your head against and heave a smug sigh of contentment.
You, on the other hand, are a class apart. You have been around for ages. The hazy mists of your presence lights up posts I had all but forgotten I had ever written. With systematic purpose, you have delved deep into every category I written my two cents on. I am particularly grateful to you for having had the courage to wade- to the very end- through the Poems section.
Even an Indian mother, who knows her child is the most beautiful genius in the universe, couldn’t have done it. My own mother, God bless her soul, would have given me a stinging clout on the side of my head with whatever she happened to be holding at that moment. She had a refined taste in literature, particularly in poetry. When I tell you she breathed Elliot, you’ll know exactly what I mean, right?
You, however, my most revered fan, dared to face this strange beast for my sake. Even I cannot read my own poems without looking over my shoulder to see if anyone’s watching preparatory to accosting me and bunging in the slammer for the rest of eternity. But you, nothing daunts you! I touch your feet in reverence!
I can see you, your broad forehead glistening with honest sweat as you navigate your way around the maddening labyrinth of nearly two hundred posts. Your jaw would be set. Your eyes would be deep as pools, at once placid and shooting bolts of lightening from their serene depths.
Once in a while your fingers would twitch and your frame would shudder delicately. That’s when you’d lovingly and meditatively strop your razor on old leather and re-lace your hob- nailed boots; but not before you check out the hob- nails, the heel and toe irons and find them satisfactory.
Be that as it may, it detracts not a whit from my gratitude towards you. On the contrary, I am even more grateful. For despite intense provocation, you have never deployed your artillery. You must be such a beautiful soul! Noble, my dear reader, noble. I pine to enshrine you! (Poetry, by God!!)
I have a humble, very very humble, suggestion. Actually, it is more like I am begging you on my bended knees. Before I make the request, I must hasten to add that if you choose to disregard the suggestion, I am more than fine with it. Whatever please you O wise one!
I beg you, let me know what you think of my work. Tell me which of the posts you found least offensive. In other words, I’d love to get a feed back from you. I am sure it would benefit me greatly. A noble soul such as you cannot but illuminate and instruct when you choose to interact. I crave that interaction, dear reader. I am languishing for it. Let me be touched by your wisdom, I beseech you!
May you be blessed with good health, fame and fortune my esteemed anonymous reader. May your tribe multiply!
With precipitous appreciation and unfathomable gratitude,