Letters To My Mummi (No.2): Dreams

Dear Maa,

Last night I got your letter and while I was reading it I felt as if you were beside me —  holding my hand like you used to when I was a child. Remember when I would run through the rain? You’d grab my arm and drag me inside. You’d give me a towel to dry off and scold me for how careless I was. By the time I’d change into fresh clothes you’d have a hot bowl of Maggi waiting for me. Those Maggi noodles are still my favorite.

I’m walking through a storm now, Mummi. But there’s no one to grab me and dry me this time. I’ve made Maggi countless times over the last month, but it never tastes the way yours did. It tastes bland.

I quit my consulting job, Mummi. I can’t sit at a desk for 10 hours every day and stare at Powerpoints and Excel sheets. Mummi, I want to make movies. I want to write stories. I want to create. I know I’m never good at expressing myself to you, but I’m great at doing it when I’m writing or drawing for myself. I know you’ll be scared – and I am too – but promise me that you’ll make me a bowl of Maggi as soon I weather this storm.

For what it’s worth, I have a plan. I’ve saved a lot. I’ve been working on my portfolio on the side and all I need is to get in front of the right person. I can’t do that here in the middle of nowhere. I know you won’t understand, which is why I didn’t say anything, but I’m moving to New York. I know this seems contrary to everything that our culture believes in about landing stable jobs, but I promise you this is the only way I’ll get anywhere.

I’ll figure it out, Mummi, I always do. I just need you to be strong for me and support me. I know you won’t be able to eat when you get this letter and I know you’ll offer prasad at the temple on Sunday for me – please do – but when you call me to discuss this, please don’t let me hear your fear. Because if you don’t believe in your beta, how will I?

Love,

Ma Daa Ladla

Written by Ashish Yamdagni 

July 14th, 2018

[Read Next: Letters To My Mummi (No.1): Shaadi]

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