Letter to my unborn

Of all that I've written, this was perhaps the hardest. Please do read and if you think this can help someone who has been through pain, do share.

Letter to my unborn:

My dear dearest,

I've dreamt of you so many times. I've dreamt of holding you in my arms. I've dreamt of singing a wordless lullaby just for you to sleep on my bony shoulders. I've dreamt of making space for you to jump on my fatless belly. I've dreamt you brighter than the stars, but like dust floating in an abandoned room you've left me floating in an endless loop.

My dear dearest I've wanted to cry, but somehow the Man in me didn't allow me to. My dear dearest I've wanted to cry, from extreme happiness the day your mother heard your heartbeat the first time. From extreme joy the day your mother realized you were making more space for yourself in her belly. From an unexplainable glee the day I saw you as a small blip in a black and white scan report. To feeling my heart crumble hearing from the doctor that your genes won't let you survive, I've wanted to cry. To seeing your mother breakdown on being told that you were not meant to be. To faking my strength as they took you and your mother into the operation theater knowing that only your mother would come back from there. To faking my courage as I stood there telling myself that it'd be alright. To cursing my fate to have been the 30000th in a genetic equation which had a 1/30000th chance. My dear dearest, I've wanted to cry. But the Father in me didn't allow me to.

There's a lot I wanted to tell you. From the glowing of the stars to the growling of the machines I've had stories to tell you. From the joy of holding a baby sheep to jumping in a pile of leaves I had moments to share with you. From the joy of mathematics to why your mother hated it there was so much I wanted to narrate to you. From the day I saw you to the day I'd close my eyes I had a life I wanted to share with you. And here I am now, staring into an endless void in my heart, not knowing what, where or who I am. I wish I could come with you to wherever they took you. I've dreamt of going for an early morning run with you, but today my dear dearest, I wish I could die with you.

Without you I am now just a 31 yr old software guy who struggles to make sense. Without you I am just a thin bearded husband spending weekends wondering about the purpose of time. Without you I am just a someone with nothing to look forward to. And yet I remember this week marks one year to the day they took you away from us and, before I could even tell you your name, filed you under a label and named you Trisomy-13. And yet I remember this was the week I called up everyone and told them with tears in my eyes that the 'Good News' I'd spoken of, is no more. This week marks one year to the darkest week in my life. My dear dearest, this week marks one year to the day I killed a part of my soul forever. The day I bled myself empty with fake courage on my face watching your mother cry her heart out.

I should've cried with her that day. I should've let it out that day, but I didn't. Somehow I decided to carry that pain and cover it with an expression of strength. Countless nights of sleeplessness and hours of staring at the man in the mirror, I've realized that pain is an after all an emotion which feels better when let out. You know, last week as I heard another little child cry for me as I left, I somehow heard you, my dear dearest. Every day after that, I've heard that cry resonating off the walls of my heart and every time I heard that cry I was back on the chair outside that operation theater where I couldn't even say goodbye, but this time, I felt my eyes let go those tears. I wanted you so bad, and by never letting anyone know I've realized I've only torn myself apart.

I know you'll come back. Some day, I know you'll come back and fill up that void yourself. Till then, my dear dearest, I promise you I won't cry because I lost you. I promise you I'll fill up that void with the stories, and tales I've wanted to tell you. I promise you I will fill that void with the best of everything I see everyday, for in those memories lies the beautiful world I wanted you to see. In those little frames of time lies the world I wanted you to share. In those little moments lies the life I wanted you to enjoy.

My dear dearest, I write this letter to you not to make you feel sad, but because I know you'll come back someday and read this yourself. I don't know if I'll ever be able to express myself the way I feel today, but I know you'll come back someday to my arms and fall asleep on my bony shoulders. I know some day I will make space for you to sit on my fatless belly. I know I will some day wake you up on a Sunday morning, go out for a run with you, and maybe jump into a pile of leaves on our way back. And on that day, my dear dearest, I'd know that you're not the 30000th but rather the 1 billionth in the ratio that's 'One in a Billion'.

Until then,

"In my heart, In this cold heart,

I can live, or I can die,

I believe if I just try,

you'll believe in you and I."

waiting for you,

with an empty heart full of silent dreams,

Your Father

Dear Vishnu - My Ice Breaker Speech

Sharing with you the full transcript of my Ice breaker speech at Zensar Toastmasters Club, Pune.

Speech Title: Dear Vishnu



Fellow Toastmasters, my name is Vishnu.

Last Sunday I got this letter in my mail. I thought I should read this for you all.


It says,

Dear Vishnu,

I write this letter to you today not because you "wanted" me to, but because deep within you know you "needed" me to. I write this letter not to tell the world who you are, but to tell YOU who you are.


I hope you do remember, dear Vishnu, that you were born some 40 yrs ago, no sorry 30 yrs ago, in a middle class south Indian family who already had a rock-star ideal son and were expecting a girl child. It took you time to realize, but I knew that you were born the same day as Dimple Kapadia and Shilpa Shetty. Maybe that's where you get your dimples and that figure. It may have been some consolation for your parents, dear Vishnu, but you were a lot more than just Shilpa Shetty.


You grew up in a town in central India amongst friends who knew not a single word of your mother tongue Malayalam. In fact, it took you 15 yrs to figure out how to write your own name in Malayalam and about half to know how to do it in Marathi. You do remember don't you, That you grew up only to be confused later whether you're a bad Malayalee or a bad Marathi. Nevertheless, whether you're a bad Malayalee or a bad Marathi doesn't matter because you do know, Vishnu, that you are one awesome hybrid Indian.

Although you went to a not so great school, got not so great grades yet successfully got into a not so great college. Although you got placed in a not so great company at a not so great package and in 2 yrs left it for obviously a not so great reason, you learnt the essential skill of how to learn what you want to learn. Always remember, dear Vishnu, it is that skill that helped you become a better than ever coder, a better than ever manager, a better than ever data scientist, the best possible son, although a not so great husband.


You've been through a lot dear Vishnu, you've shutdown Moody's Corporation's International network for an hour by not adding a semi colon to the end of a piece of code. You've recited squares of numbers from 1 to 61 correctly while you were drunk the first time. You've married the girl you fell in love with, you've designed the one and only machine learning based lender for rural farmers in India and you've also been through the sorrow of losing your first child to a rare genetic disorder. You've seen a lot Vishnu as you've grown from an annoying younger sibling who stole pocket money to being an independent earner for your family. You've seen the world change around you Vishnu. But both you and I know deep within that you're still that child who ran a razor blade across random scooters seats just to see how well it tore them, you're still that child who set a paper plane on fire to see it fly, the child who cried to get out of trouble and the same child who shamelessly blamed his brother for his mistakes. Remember, dear Vishnu, that no matter what you go through or see, you are who you are and not what the world wants you to be.


As I run out of space on this piece of paper let me conclude my dearest friend. I know you better than anyone ever can. I've known you so well that I know you'd be reading this out in front of an audience in Pune. But that's not why I wrote this letter to you, isn't it? I wrote this letter to you so that you know who you are. I reminded you of your past not because it affects you, but because you are a result of all your experiences.  You are who you are because of all the good that happened to you in spite of all the bad that you went through. You are who you are right now. Not what the past crashed you into.


And I think you've already understood that, because you may have realized it well by now that this letter, from Vishnu to Vishnu. This letter that Vishnu has written to his earnest self, this letter which is showing you your true self in front of the world...

...is, in fact....

.... just a BLANK piece of paper.