An Acknowledgement Letter

I write this acknowledgement letter to all those humble and very concerned souls who’ve invested their lives to point out to me that I’m lean which, I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. Also, to those who without fail, without asking for it, keep suggesting, advising, or randomly keep blabbering about something that is very personal to my life. Here’s an acknowledgment letter to you all,

Dear the-above-mentioned-category,

How do I thank you for what you’ve done for me for all these immensely critical and important years of my life. Who else would have pointed out at every social gathering, at every minute, every second of my life, that I weigh lesser than an ant. If not you, I would’ve died without even noticing it. No words can express my gratitude towards you, noble souls. But there’s one thing, that has always made me curious, why don’t you mind your own fucking business? Have you ever thought about that? No? Then, kindly do. That’ll be a whole lot of unexplored horizon for you. I can no more smile into nothingness and live that awkward three minute phase, I can’t stop myself from telling you to stfu, anymore. Invest your time, losing that unwanted ugly unhealthy fat from your body. Have you ever seen yourself in the mirror? Please do. Your unintelligible attempts at hiding that flab with your supposedly strategic orange piece of shimmery draping is not even funny anymore. I had to stoop down to your level to shut you up. Also, one more time you ask me, ‘kuch khati nahi kya?’ I’ll make you watch Star Parivaar Awards in a loop, but considering your IQ, that’s a good deal for you. Well, how about this, you lesser mind, I’ll make you watch The Big Bang Theory for 48 hours straight without even telling you what Ohm’s law is. Also, do not ever grab my wrist to measure how thin I am, I’m sure your eyes are well equipped to comprehend three dimensional objects, you needn’t touch to prove your multi-dimensional stupidity. When you mock me for not being able to apply the eye liner, or a nail paint, whose existence is of no importance to this universe or to any parallel universe whatsoever, you look like the drunk director of Malamaal Weekly, who decided to make a sequel of the movie, unaware of the logistics and insulting the Indian masses by questioning their sense of humor, under-estimating their ability to comprehend things and taking undue advantage of the amount of shit, that us Indians can take. O well, pardon me, for I got swayed. Do you not understand the do-your-job-and-get-the-hell-out-of-there funda? Why do you have to embarrass yourself everytime we meet? I can’t even pretend that I care anymore. I understand, it’s difficult to get a life. I know your love life sucks and last time you dated a man/woman was 1000 years back, I also know that your spouse is mentally paralysed to take any shit from you and respond accordingly and that, your kids are too busy flaunting the pink iphone, planning the date, choosing the skirt and are on their peak of  I-know-it-all-kindly-stay-away phase. I know it’s difficult for you to shut up, try meditating. No? Please spare me for I may not be able to follow the social protocol anymore. Stop telling me what to do and what not, I am no Sonam A Kapoor, I don’t take bad decisions on a daily basis with that kind of confidence over-confidence.Thank you for everything. Kindly concentrate on your lives, your partners, sisters, mothers, daughters, need attention. You’re welcome.

Thanking You,

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