Love Letters – Oh they Exist!

Down the generations, we have been the harbingers of love. Intricately designed, meticulously drafted – we are ones who are desired by all. Written by the honest, the deep, the hopeful, the brave, and the love-struck – we are love letters!

Made of the finest quality of the paper and inked with the most expensive pen, I am a love letter written by Miss Michelle Saunders for her muse Mr. John Gale.

For days she rummaged through dictionaries to compose the sentences which she eventually made to reside inside me. Oh! After all, the words had to be accurate enough to match her feelings!

I could proudly consider it as an achievement that I had survived rejection, as my many siblings had been dispensed straight into the paper-bin previously because their composition is never quite satisfied with Miss Saunders.

I was just perfect. I was articulated with her profound and definite thoughts. I was the bearer of the testament of the deep emotions of amour of a young girl for her dream man.

In a generation where electronic communication is like a lightning bolt, I was like a boat sailing in the ocean, undeterred, cemented with commitment, and brimming with tangible expressions.

I could see the bright sun rays illuminating the surroundings as Miss Saunders carefully brought me out from her copy. The window overlooking the adjacent university ground opened its arms to embrace the warmth of the sunny autumn morning. The grass was definitely greener on the other side.

I was feeling so ecstatic!

Had the day finally arrived? Oh my god!

Although I had rehearsed them countless times, my head was buzzing with the lines Miss Saunders wrote in me. I was mad with excitement and paranoia. An extreme sense of responsibility dawned upon me. For I was the potential start of a relationship.

Miss Saunders carefully nestled me into a fine envelope. I waited with bated breath to come out. I could suddenly feel I was being lifted and carried.

What would John’s first reaction be? Where would he keep me? How many times would he read me? Oh boy! I was exploding with anticipation! I hoped that he doesn’t smother me with his tears. That would certainly trigger my OCD.

Alright. 

Calm down. Just wait. Rehearse the lines. I told myself

I must not fail my duty as a messenger.

I could sense the footsteps slow down. They stopped. My heart just ceased to beat for a while. and … and I felt like I was floating.

Hey, wait!

What was happening! I was falling! Miss Saunders should have been careful given my fragility!

Ouch. I assume that I landed on the ground. Thankfully she had put me inside a thick envelope. But why wasn’t anyone picking me up? Where was I?

I was waiting… and waiting… And then the first drop of water fell.

Oh, dear! Was it Miss Saunders crying or Mr. Gale? Err, but I had not even been opened yet!

And then came a second drop, third…

Oh no! It started pouring relentlessly!

The envelope got soaked and slowly started to wither away. I could see the grey sky and the rainfall above me.

Where was John? Michelle? What just happened?

By Madhubanti Bagchi & Ujjval Chauhan