A letter from my pen

A letter from my pen

4 mins

For the past few days, I couldn't come up with an idea or any topic for writing. I voluntarily decided to write whatever my mind may hit. Nevertheless, I couldn't. Exhaustion and deep anguish made my head hung and I literally decided to have a nap. And that's when I received a letter from my pen.

The knock at the door broke my embrace with the duvet and I reluctantly went across the room. A Brown envelope from an unknown sender stood at the door. Curiosity has its own way and that's what helped me open a door to a new melodious world. 

An anonymous person and a letter, sounds strange right?  

Dear anonymous, 

Before revealing my identity, I would choose it to be a suspense. I found your poems in the college magazine flooded with emotions of love, passion, and much more which can be just felt. I could feel the emotion. I may be exaggerating but it really felt that they were all dedicated to me. I just knew your initial name or maybe it's your pen name. A strong feeling of having a glance at you arose. I searched every nook and corner of the campus all in vain and that shattered all my hopes. I photocopied all your poems from the Art Circle's board just to read them at bedtime. 

  Night always has its own charm alluring you to seek more. You may not believe but I felt your presence with a hint of mesmerizing though you were unknown while reading them. The melancholy written words urged me towards the Editor's office. You seemed to be anonymous or rather a caterpillar buried deep inside its own cocoon with no intention to have a relation with the outside world. The harsh Editor refused to let me have a way towards your cocoon. So, 

I was just left with those alluring words. They seemed to be the only way I could feel you. But destiny had something else is its mind. That's when I saw you for the first time at the Editor's office after a persistent chase and long steady hours hovering around the office for a month or exactly 33 days, to be precise. Oops! You might be wondering how could I recognize you? It all took lots of pleas and never-give-up attitude to finally melt the Editor's heart on the thirtieth day. 


 A best friend is always a guide or rather an encyclopedia of a person and it played well with you. We were destined to meet and your best friend acted as a bridge. My mind was now acting like Sherlock Holmes when my Doctor Watson helped me get in touch with you. Dr. Watson and your best friend are chirping love birds. And I guess after reading this, you must have recognized me. Love always finds its own way in its own enchanting way making one go crazy. You can't deny the fact that those poems are dedicated to me. After all, I'm Sherlock Holmes now (though with your BFF's help). My heart rejoiced. But your reserved and I-don't-care attitude were hippo-hurdles laughing at my pitiful fate. Another month passed away just to break the ice. 

 Your curt replies and aloof nature countered my blabbering tongue. You seemed just flawless while I was a heap of imperfections. Ideal gases and perfect people don't exist. I realized it when you finally gave in. My blabbering tongue was ruthlessly whipped by your harsh words which left me awe-struck with a pain throbbing in my heart. Yes, you were short-tempered but I was at fault too. I should have maintained your space. Your sincere apology the next day won my heart. I found a caring person in you the moment you expressed your concern in the hospital where I laid struck with a fractured arm. You forced me to vow. I had to give up the habit of street fights just because the Supreme court of my heart had ordered. How could I deny it? Your concern, fragile yet innocent nature bound my heart with yours. I am aware we argue, we fight, we care, we share yet we don't fall apart. That's what love is.

Now that we're in good terms the feeling to possess you grew stronger. It's mandatory for you to open the door as soon as you finish reading it. Though I'm bad at words, hope you like it.  

 Yours loving,

 your pen *(sounds appropriate)

Excited, I opened the door to find him standing at the door, with his face hidden behind the bouquet of red roses. That's perfect, I thought. Another story with its own uniqueness added to the long history of love. 

Dear readers, the reason to keep it anonymous is my love for mystery as you must have guessed it by now. The Mystery is what leads to further discovery, so our story loves to remain anonymous. 

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