That man is my father

A Lost Love

....I have written this not to seek answers.I am not sure if I can live with this pain of not having you near me.Just read through and try to understand me as a person.Before I end this letter,let me make a confession.I made a mistake of loving you more than my life and now I dont know how to unlove you.

With lots of love,

Nandana.

The letter smelt of love.Written in tears, it reflected a million words that were inscribed in her heart.It had been choking her for quite some time.She coughed.No relief,but some tears.In the lines,she had avoided declarations of love,pain of separation and intense emotions.She wanted him to be hers but knew some distances could never be travelled.If this was what it meant to be in love,she would never recommend it.She had learnt a lot from this angst.He had taught her many things.Love has a market value.It has a status symbol.It does not come cheap to all who yearns for it.The biggest reward in this game is to be loved in return and the most difficult moments are when you cannot decipher if the person loves you or not.If you fall into the traps of this game without realising its nuances,helplines reach you late.By then you will have shed weight,gallons of boiling tears and a million hopes.The price you pay for loving the wrong person is a wounded pride.No man can stand it.

She neatly folded the papers and put them into the brown envelope.Handwritten papers have a special power of communicating.They carry a part of you along with it.The scribbles,additions,deletions reveal your mind.It thunders to the reader.It catches the reader's attention.He can feel it,sense it,see it and even smell it.She somewhere felt that this letter might help her.But it should reach his hands and only his.She took her ink pen and in bold black letters wrote on the envelope :

Mr.Kishore Varma

3 B,Cliff towers

R.P.Lane

Palayam

Thiruvananthapuram-34

She carefully stuck the stamp and sealed the envelope.She placed it in her college size Classmate notebook and started walking towards the red box which had witnessed many such moments since its inception.Only if it could ever narrate its story.At the post box,she deposited the letter as if she was posting the application form for the most crucial examination in her life.In a sense it was."If Kishore reads it",she walked away as if victory would have been hers.

She took her mobile phone and pressed 1.Speed dial.Beats,drums,the song had it all.The song had sung its due course but no response.She tried once more.A husky voice at the other end,

"hello"

"r u busy"

"i am with my friends...wassit"

"i have posted a letter..wat all i had left unsaid..jus read thru.."

"Mmm"

"c dt u collect it..k"

"K"

"wat else?"

"Nothin...will call u bak."

"ok..bye..tk care"

beep...beep..beep...He had cut the phone.She knew he would never return the call.But God knows,what if the letter can do wonders.

She waited eagerly for two-three days as the letter made its journey through different mail vans,post offices and post-men.He had totally forgotten about the mail.Three days later,Kishore received the letter.Nandana missed seeing his expression.He opened the envelope and just studied the look of the letter.Suddenly,the door bell chirped.

"hey...Amritha...wat a surprise..Ammu u shd hav tol me...Come in...come in"

"Ha..ha...i thot i shd just drop in to c my love..."

They hugged each other.

"Come sit"

"hey bachelor...u need to do a lot f tidyin up...dese chairs r dusty...wait till i come here...i'll teach u.."

"jus a sec..."He tore 3 pages from the 7 papers that carried "i jus dont care who she is's" heart and dusted the wooden armchair for his love.The papers lay soiled and crumbled in his waste basket.Back home,Nandana was praying,hoping and dreaming.