Last Pages of letter

SN’s story wasn’t written in a single moment. It was pieced together over the years, etched into the hearts of those he left behind and those he encountered in his wanderings. His letters, found scattered across his travels, became the heart of his journey and the essence of his longings. Tamilselvi, who had loved and raised SN like a son, collected and preserved these letters, each one a fragment of his life without her.

---

Letter 1: Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh

"Akka,

The burning ghats here remind me of the endless cycles of life and death. I watch the pyres burn, and my mind wanders to the time you comforted me when I was scared of lightning during a storm. Every spark here feels like a piece of me burning away, but your love refuses to leave. I sit by the Ganga, thinking of your hands braiding my hair when I was a child. I miss you, akka. The river flows endlessly, but my heart stays anchored in Coimbatore."

---

Letter 2: Jaisalmer, Rajasthan

"Akka,

The Thar Desert is an ocean of sand where the sun blazes relentlessly. Life here is sparse but tenacious. I met a camel herder who offered me water and wisdom. He said that no matter how vast the desert, a wanderer always dreams of a home to return to. His words struck me deeply. For me, home is you, akka. Without you, every oasis feels empty."

---

Letter 3: Alleppey, Kerala

"Akka,

The houseboats here are serene, floating atop backwaters framed by endless green. But even in this paradise, I feel incomplete. I think of the meals you cooked for us back home—the smell of coconut oil and spices that carried your love in every bite. The locals here tell me that the water heals everything. I wonder, does it heal the ache of missing you too?

---

Letter 4: Sundarbans, West Bengal

"Akka,

The Sundarbans are wild and untamed, with mangroves stretching endlessly into the horizon. The people here whisper about the Royal Bengal Tiger—a shadow you sense but rarely see. It feels poetic, like the love we share: invisible but omnipresent. I think about the times we sat in silence, understanding each other without saying a word. Those moments were my refuge. I miss our silence, akka."

---

Letter 5: Varkala, Kerala

"Varsitha,

Today, I walked the cliffs of Varkala, watching waves crash violently against the rocks. It reminded me of our arguments—intense, fiery, but always leaving a profound calm afterward. I see your face in the waves, your smile in the horizon, your tears in the foam. My heart aches for what I could never give you: my whole, unbroken self. I miss you with every heartbeat."

---

Letter 6: Dharamshala, Himachal Pradesh

"Akka,

The mountains whisper stories of silence, and the air is thin enough to carry them. The Tibetan monks here remind me of you—gentle, serene, but infinitely strong. I tried meditating with them, but my thoughts always drift back to you. I wonder if you feel my absence as deeply as I feel yours. Do you still look out the window, waiting for me to return home?"

---

Letter 7: Leh, Ladakh

"Akka,

Ladakh is barren yet breathtaking—a strange duality. It mirrors my heart, filled with awe at the beauty of life yet barren in your absence. I rode with a group of bikers who reminded me of your resilience. They carried stories of pain but rode with joy, just as you did with life. Your strength gives me strength, akka."

---

Letter 8: Shillong, Meghalaya

"Varsitha,

Shillong is a symphony of waterfalls and whispers. The locals speak of bridges made of roots, unshaken by time or tempest. I imagine us as one of those bridges—built from something organic, strong, yet fragile. I wish I had the courage to build something with you. Here, surrounded by clouds, I feel closer to you than ever. I hope you forgive me for my silence."

---

Letter 9: Rishikesh, Uttarakhand

"Akka,

The Ganga here flows with the ferocity of youth but carries the wisdom of millennia. I dipped my hands into the water, and for the first time in years, I prayed. I prayed for your happiness, your health, your peace. Every person I meet reminds me of you in some way, whether in their kindness or their strength. You are everywhere, akka, and yet, I feel the unbearable weight of your absence."

---

Letter 10: Himalayas

"Akka,

I’ve reached the peak of isolation. Snow blankets the earth, silencing every sound. I thought I wanted this quiet, but it feels like a void. I long to hear your voice, even if it’s scolding me for being reckless. The Himalayas have humbled me. I realize now that my search for peace was futile. Peace wasn’t in the silence of these mountains; it was in the warmth of your love."

---

Confession by cosmos for lasion...

The culmination of SN’s wandering brought him back to Tamil Nadu, where Varsitha had requested he meet her in Ooty. The Nilgiri hills provided the perfect backdrop—a misty, serene canvas for a love story untold.

Varsitha stood on a hilltop, her eyes brimming with determination. “SN, I’ve waited long enough. This is our moment. Why can’t you see that?”

SN looked away, the wind carrying his words like a lament. “Varsitha, my love for you is infinite, but my life is fractured. You deserve more than a man who spends his days chasing shadows.”

“You’re not a shadow!” Varsitha cried, her voice breaking. “You’re the light that taught me how to love. Let me in, SN. Let me heal you.”

But SN, bound by his guilt and fear, could only whisper, “You deserve a sky unclouded by storms.”

Varsitha held him one last time, tears soaking into his jacket. “You are my storm, SN. And I’d weather you a thousand times.”

“I’m a shadow, Varsitha,” he replied softly. “A shadow can love the light, but it can never hold it.”

Their parting was as silent as it was agonizing—a farewell not of choice but necessity.

---

SN’s letters became the final chapters of The Last Pages, a book compiled by Tamilselvi and Varsitha. His funeral in Coimbatore was a sea of mourners, riders from Ladakh, vendors from Alleppey, monks from Dharamshala, and countless others whose lives he had touched.

As Tamilselvi scattered his ashes over the Siruvani waterfalls, Varsitha whispered, “You thought love lived in silence, but SN… it’s louder than ever, even now.”

"In my life, I searched for silence, but it was never found in the absence of sound. It was found in the quiet love of those who saw me, knew me, and stayed anyway."