To Japan 1.2

By -

My dearest Miyage,

I hope this letter finds you well and feeling better than before. I have a confession to make today in this letter.

Yesterday when I sat in the boat at the riverside, the winds were sounding furious, quite unusual for the village that I live in. The climate drastically changes when two seasons overlap each other. I seem to be taking comfort spending time in the boat even more than I used to before, because here I am not disturbed by anyone. Nature has its own way of calming one’s soul. Do not worry, I am not distracted by anything. My confession, the realization occurred to me in the same situation yesterday. Sitting there, I had this fear of failing to make you all right, to get you past your weak health phase. Miyage, am I failing?

You can be honest. One thing I am so assured of is the honesty that we share. I almost cursed myself a thousand times for not being available at your place. I’ve only been there through the pictures you shared with me, and I terribly wish I was present physically to take care of you in such a time. Did you not ever feel like calling me over? You had the right. You still do. Why didn’t you rightfully say to me how I should have arranged either for myself or you to cross this distance between us? Why didn’t I try harder?

I feel utterly down, I so wish to be there at this moment. I regret not making the decision earlier. Please recover, Miyage. We still need more letters. I want to make it happen, I want to cover this distance and finally get to meet you. I have a dozen of boxes filled with your letters. The way your handwriting starts looking lazy in the last few letters, I get terrified, paranoid even, of unspeakable what ifs that lie between until I receive one more letter from you. That fear is there.

The little hope that I get is from the school kids. They always think everything is possible and their optimism is appreciable. I am trying to make new ways work out and no, Miyage, I can’t wait any longer. The distance has to disappear into thin air.

Apart from this, I am doing fine. I am fine.


Yours truly,

Snehmoy.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Smokes in the air

By -
Image
Maybe this is because life currently has become steadily non-happening and so I walk in circles these days, without coming to a halt. I find myself sleeping for more hours than I usually do and probably need. I must be going to sleep feeling longing for something or nothing at all for I feel even number when I wake up. I have things to do but I've kept most of them away for a while. I have friends to meet but I don't go out lately. When I do, its with my cousin brother. The fresh street and head lights add a specific feel to the pretty, happy and busy faces I see on my way and I am just shown another side of my mood that doesn't last long; a feeling as I reach home, knowing I'll again be the same person enjoying solitude. The time spent playing old games with the ones I have blood relations with put me at ease somehow and I suddenly miss my family. My own people. They're there in front of me but I end up missing them more than ever. I remember how I was brough...
Read more

Some time off

By -
That moment arrives when a normal day starts feeling like a storm all around you. The air feels cruel. The winds, even more. You hurt. It doesn't go away. It troubles you outwardly. Your head feels empty, but gets heavier every minute. The weight of never-ending thoughts, insecurities and the fear. You try badly for this storm to stop. You try not to let anything enter your mind for you know you'll have to pay for it. But what you avoid, identifies you. What you're supposed to be like, kills you somehow. Every thought leads you back to that same place. You long. You hurt. Like a beggar. Full of regrets. Full of what ifs and buts. You're nothing inside but everything inside you is just too much that you feel the space isn't enough. You feel weightless. But it feels like the burden is breaking you and pushing you down the floor, deep down the tiles of your room and even the sand thereafter. You don't stop trying but the storm always wins. Like it has won, r...
Read more

Of Moving Forward- Part II

By -
Image
Sitting here, I wonder if it's about seeing in the mirror and liking what I see. 'Your eyes speak', they say. With every look of myself I get everytime I see, they, my eyes, seem to want to confront me. With all my honesty, I say, I run away from them. I try to. But the next time, everytime, it's a sensation of their coming toward me more hurriedly. They must be knowing the truth behind all the lies under the Sun I may have happened to tell myself in order to keep going. It's what I am used to do. To keep going, not knowing how far but far still. I am not used to the comfort there is in stopping for a moment or two. The comfort doesn't comfort me enough, although the view of it I get is inviting and tempting. I do not like the idea of walking the carpet that could take me somewhere I may be told I could dream. It doesn't completely satisfy me, being somewhere for a long time where there is everything I like. Going somewhere for a while where they may ...
Read more