It was finally one of those lazy afternoons, when it was raining outside, there was some time at my disposal, and was free from any commitments. Frankly such days are always around, we just need to spot them wisely. And for once, I was successful in doing so. A mug full of ginger tea kept besides me, and finally the box full of letters was opened. It smelled of the old pages filled with coloured inks. In between those pages lay innumerable tiny gifts that my friends had sent me in all these years. I held random letters close to my heart. After almost a decade of letter writing, I was going through the letters I had completely forgotten about. So much of love that wend down those pages, made my eyes brim with tears. I seemed pretty oblivious to the hidden treasure in my closet.

My friends, had loved writing letters ever since I had encouraged them to do so. The beauty of those envelopes, pages, the dried ink that had started to fade a shade lighter each year, all had one thing in common. They all had witnessed the days they have been handled with utmost care and showered with so much love, that a mere touch of them brought back the old memories and a lot more.

Now they have moved out of the city and reside elsewhere. Few to different cities and a few to another country altogether. Tears rolled down as I wondered where these friends would be at that very moment, and would they be even thinking of me after 5-6 years that had passed. I swore to write them all a letter that day itself. To let them know that I have been missing them so much. The time that I had spent with them, probably were few of the best days in my early college days. A new quest for my happiness had begun. Exactly 2 months back, I sent out about 5 odd letters to the friends who had written me during my school days.

During the tormenting month of September, while I was singing, “Wake me up when September ends” at the back of my mind. There was yet another lingering set accompanying me and keeping me upbeat during the days which swept me to the lowest of moods.

A friend had casually questioned me a few days ago, “If you have so many friends in real life, why go out and write to unknown people?”

My answer came in spontaneously, before even a second thought, “People here do not have time to sit and read my thoughts through a letter. And even if they do, they are not fond of replying.”

That was true indeed. In the age of fast-food, who has time for snail-mail? I mean, why wouldn’t a person write an e-mail than post and wait for days together for a measly letter? I’m such such a thought could be brought up only by people who have not written any letters (besides the ones in their English examinations), let alone receiving any. It is not that people do not like receiving any, but the ones who can’t even wait patiently for a cup of instant coffee or 2-minutes noodles, find it far more difficult to digest the communication which takes days or sometimes even weeks to hear from. We all just need to train the patience-muscle in us. I’m dead sure you all are going to fall in love with writing letters soon!

As an experiment or let’s say my love for writing, I had decided to write to all the closest friends from all the international trips that I go for. I felt that was a good way to rekindle the romance with the Postal Service. I guess it never worked with the people I tried to reach out to, but in this meaningful process, I certainly found someone. Someone so amazing a personality, hidden deep within myself. Who felt so deeply loved, by what people might consider insignificant, “words”, more so if handwritten in distinct scripts. The scripts that change with every sender. But I keep my tiny bit of Graphology knowledge aside, and simply savour the love that is poured in those love letters.

Yes, Love Letters might sound cheesy, but I believe all letters are love letters. When one invests time, energy and efforts in reaching out to someone, what would you call it? I mean, why would someone spend time in writing me, when they could do hundred other things in that amount of time and use the energy and also a bit of money in something else that is of more importance to them. Why would anyone try to communicate with me in my language? Probably because they love me? Maybe!

People around me, my friends my family seemed too preoccupied to read or write letters. It often meant I would have to talk to the pen and ink and should never ever even hope for a thank you in reply to my pages long letter. Tried that for a few years, but as I read somewhere, my love tank remained empty for having only withdrawals and no deposits. The thickness of my diaries kept increasing with the unspoken and unexpressed words. Random titbits of papers were filled with words, and later tossed into the dustbin. But then, that is not quite as much joy as sharing it with some other soul alive. A soul, that probably understands you more than the people you meet everyday? There is a possibility, right? So I believe it is time to pamper myself with some meaningful new friends outside the life I’ve had till now.

I could barely contain myself the entire day yesterday, when I was all over the place, dancing with joy holding letters. It was after ages, or probably for the first time that I had a task at hand, so very dear and close to my heart. Writing half a dozen of letters. Few were long awaited replies and half were the first step after ages into the pen friends world.

I recently read a quote by Mark Twain, “I can live for two months on a good compliment.” and it got me thinking. How true was that! I mean, how healing or destroying words, comments, compliments or even criticism is. words can literally make or break you. Probably, even these letters must be having similar powers?

My pick is the “Healing Words”! 🙂

P.S: If at all you wish to receive a letter from me some day, you could always write me.