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Letters To My Lover - 1

Letters To My Lover - 1

4 mins 4.6K 4 mins 4.6K

She's too far away from him. Life seems like a punishment. She can't help but remember those days and write to him.

He reciprocates, expressing his own longing via poetry....

Letters to my lover

Letter 1

Interlaken, Switzerland

It’s been fourteen months now, since we parted on that fateful, rain-clad night in the middle of the monsoons in Mumbai. It was as if the skies had opened their hearts out and couldn’t contain their anguish at us parting. All the affection, love and passion that had laced those three years that we were together had come to such an end. I tried telling myself that all of those dark clouds that engulfed us were just a part of a passing phase, and that it would soon be over and I would wake up from my nightmare to a fresh morning beaming with golden light. How wrong I was.

Here I am , in this charming and romantic , if a little sleepy, town at the foot of the Alps. Without you. The days seem to go by here at the pace of a place where time doesn’t seem to be of any importance or sometimes doesn’t seem to exist at all. The cold breeze that blows around the stone-cobbled streets of the town always finds a way to cozy up to me and whisper quietly in my ear, “Feeling lonely eh, my child? Life’s not too beautiful without him, is it ?”. My inability to get angry at these wilful chides spurs my irritability further, making me do silly things like shifting restlessly in my seat, biting my nails without realising it and sometimes even unknowingly talking to myself as I walk down these roads alone.

Unwittingly, sometimes I try to feel your hands holding mine as I walk down these empty lanes, my mind trying to seduce me into believing that these are the same stretches of sandy beaches that we walked on at Juhu , holding hands and letting our senses talk as the sun went down for a quiet night’s sleep into the foaming seas.

A little drizzle would trickle down from the heavens sometimes, and the sea breeze would seep into our senses with the smell of wet earth. I remember how much you loved that smell, to the point of craving for it during the monsoons. Every time the overcast skies threatened to pour, we’d rush down from our apartment to the little garden nearby. How I loved to be able to share the happiness that you felt when it would start to rain. Like a little child, you’d become.

The charming little florists’ shops around almost each nook and corner of the town are laden with a myriad hues of romance, painted using a palette of the most gorgeous flowers I’ve seen. Each time I look at them, my mind races back to the times when you’d woo me with bouquets of white lilies and red roses that I loved. I’d secretly wish for you to be late for our dates, to miss our dinners or forget my birthdays so that you’d make up to me by gifting me those floral darlings. Now, when I look at these florists’ shops, somehow the colours soon dissolve into a nothingness, a stark white at most times. It makes me immensely sad to think that I am unable to feel the romance, the love, the passion anymore.

The nights are so long here. It’s painful to be unable to sleep. I often spend my nights sitting by the little writing desk in my room, remembering you. When I started writing this letter, I’d looked out of my hostel window and I could see the blue silhouette of the Alps set against the rich darkness of the night sky. Its 4:30 am now. The blue silhouette of the Alps has been replaced by a serene white now, set against the backdrop of a vanilla and blue sky. The sun and the moon are secretly cavorting each other in the first moments of dawn. Just like we would, in our days of togetherness.

I hope one day our lives would be as entwined as those lovers in the early morning sky.

Love,

Ananya.

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The long stretches of beaches have no ends,

But there are a few turns and bends,

And just the same our journey of love is,

There are a few hurdles, but my love, we’ll make amends.

The parched land lies in wait for its monsoon lover,

Just like I do,

In the wait for you.

And as the rains come and wet the earth,

It spreads its happiness via its sweet fragrance,

And so do I, for your letters give me a reason to be happy,

And makes me smile in your sweet remembrance.

I know you can’t see the colours in the flowers,

Nor can you feel the love in the air,

But I promise to be by your side in your moments of despair.

I won’t just let these days go by,

For one day we’ll be together..

Just like the lovers in your morning sky.



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22 Minutes of Love and Other Short Stories


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