No pair can be hotter than Amitabh and Rekha on the big screen. “Main aur meri tanhai...” says Amitabh, and Rekha appears. He woke up and found her true. I always wonder, though, why she should be called tanhai — she looks nothing like that — but before anything else happens they set the screen on fire. On Valentine’s Day, such songs are particularly poignant in a life so starved of love as mine.

So I was listening to the song on loop, and feeling bad, but also good because I was capable of generating so much self-pity and abjection, and a certain tragic air about myself, when the penny dropped and hit me hard on my head. I have someone in my life. I have had that someone for many years now. I just did not see.

I am talking about my Amazon account. Me and my Amazon, main aur meri tanhai. You, my Amazon, have always been there for me, more than anyone, anything that I can think of, in the last five years or so, or for even longer maybe.

You have given me everything that I could ever want. Whenever I wanted. So many times have I just looked at you, in silence. You have known its meaning. You have known what I have had in mind. You have never questioned my choices. On the contrary, you have gently nudged me towards more.

You have heard my sighs. I have sung songs and you did not object. I have felt inadequate. But you didn’t let me feel that for long. You have dazzled me with even more. You made me want you more and more. Sometimes I have not been able to take my eyes off you for hours — or my hands.

You are desire itself. You always give enough, I feel, only to show me that you have more.

At any time, any hour, you are always there. I have woken up in the middle of the night to find you waiting, and I have gone right back into you, exploring, exploring... Main aur meri tanhai, you have competition. Stop sizzling. I have the real tanhai.

I always know that I am on your mind. All through the day, you keep sending me messages, tempting me, provoking me. I cannot but respond.

You have always been sensitive. You have never made me feel old. With your support, I have been able to pick up whatever I felt I would look good in, and no eyebrows raised whatsoever.

You have never made me feel fat. You have always organized different sizes. If something I liked was not available in a larger size, you have quickly shown me something else that was.

You have never let anyone know anything. What is a little affair without its bit of secrecy, pleasure and guilt? With your help, I have acquired little stashes of things that are hidden away. I even have an Issey Miyake bottle lying on top of the heap.

You were wonderful especially during the lockdown. When the world receded, when I was alone and crouching in a corner, when I was tired of washing dishes, when the
mop handle snapped into two, and when the virus was raging outside, you, Amazon, I turned to you.

I just ordered stuff from you, things I absolutely did not need, from a one kilogramme jar of crunchy peanut butter to mountains of Himalayan pink salt — and a set of three floor mops with handles.

True, you charge me for everything. But then everything comes with a price, relationships included. In fact, other relationships come with a hidden cost, but you are so absolutely upfront about payment and accept credit cards. Thank you.

When old age shall this generation waste, thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st, “Buying is truth, truth buying, — that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.” Buying cures everything. And you have taught me that.

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