3rd of September 2007
Dear Miss Mala,I’ve been waiting to write to you for a long time. Been waiting for a free moment at work to sit down and write you the longest letter ever! Today is probably one of the busiest days at work. Monday morning. Work piled up from the weekend. And the boss waiting on work from me that he is too lazy to do. And despite the persistence around me I find it liberating to write you about my life since you’ve been absent from it.
When you told me not to listen to what other people said, I believed it, because it stood out from the clutter of ‘religion’ ‘religion’ ‘religion’. Naively I believed it was good advice because it was what I wanted it hear, but actually it was just good advice. Since then I’ve never let what people said about religion dishearten me or come between us. I believe God blessed me with something good, something that changed me, something that made me grow up, and he did it because he loved me. So what they say about me disobeying God is rubbish, this is what God wants me to have. This is what fate decided for me since I was born. And this is what you were talking about.
Somehow where I work and what I do seems irrelevant. Like you wanted for me, this rebellious, immature and lazy girl is now the most successful in her class. The opportunities are endless, the happiness is endless and the love is endless. But no, I do not live in a perfect world. I fall, and I cry and the world gets me down. The occasional mother –daughter fight gets me down, the lovers tiff gets me down, the official argument get me down, but that is life, is it not??
Teachers and I never got on, at all. Somehow I believed they were bitter at life, bitter and old and jaded. Every teacher who was confronted by my personality contrasted and conflicted. They were not for me, I thought as I felt the cane on my arm. Then you came, with your swirling chiffon and your vibrant life and your painted eyebrows, demanding attention and getting it… she is me I though… she is not a teacher. But a teacher you were, the education you gave me got me not far, but the life you guided me through has made me the woman I am. Finally unafraid of love. Finally a person whose façade has broken away.
The darkness I remember from long ago that wrapped me in the arms of a boy, has been replaced by the glory of a man. Are you proud of me mother?
I wonder if I will ever send this to you.
I think you ought to know, but I believe you would expect some of that old childish exuberance, Miss Mala, if you could see my face now.
No thank you is needed, a true hero like you waits not for praise.
But, thank you, for being the hand that guided me to the potter. I’m complete.
posted by pINKhIGHhEELS @ 1:30 AM
2 Comments:
Call me NOW.
WHO IS THIS!!!
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