To, Gayatri,
After weeks of my mysterious disappearance — a phenomenon often referred to by scholars as “Prasad’s Social Vanishing Act” — I finally decided to reappear in Gayatri’s life. Social etiquette dictates that one should arrive bearing gifts. Most people choose the usual suspects: chocolates, flowers, or perhaps something edible to distract from the long absence. But I, ever the innovator, decided to take the road less traveled.
I presented her with not just a flower, but an entire potted plant — a living, breathing responsibility disguised as a thoughtful gesture. This particular botanical specimen featured two blooms: one yellow, symbolizing the sunshine and cheerfulness I (occasionally) bring into her life, and one red, representing the dramatic flair and chaos I inevitably leave behind.
Placing the plant into her hands, I silently transferred the responsibility of nurturing it — much like how our friendship thrives only when she waters it with patience after my unannounced sabbaticals. Unlike me, this plant will remain in one spot, faithfully greeting her every morning without delay, excuses, or sudden “busy weeks.”
In the end, this gift is more than foliage; it is a promise, a metaphor, and perhaps a subtle apology. And just like the plant, I hope our friendship continues to grow — with occasional pruning for the drama, and plenty of sunlight for the good times.
Cheers, Prasad