THE LETTER

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On the night of long moon, thousands of stars shone in the eternal sky like a glittery bed. It was half past midnight when the streets were all empty. No signs of human life could be seen. The streets of Tulsipur felt lifeless.

I stood near the huge window panel with my head resting on the rim of the window panel so that I can have a good view of the scenario outside the house. Meanwhile, the radiant moonlight fell on the floor through the window, giving the study room a touch of heavenly aura.

The atmosphere was serene and calm. The Poornima Moon's light spread a silvery blanket on the earth. My face bathed in the moonlight which made my skin lustrous. The breeze gently fanned my face as if trying to deliver an anonymous message in my ears. My long tresses danced with the wind as I closed my eyes and tried to embrace the soft hugs of breeze, which was soothing my body and my mind felt relaxed. But I knew that somewhere in my heart, I felt a craving, a longing.

The only person for whom my heart longed was no one but him. As I'm sitting here in his study room, I can feel his presence. I can feel his scent. The interior design of this room, the colour choices , the dozens of handpicked books arranged in alphabetical order, the all round spirit of the room was reminding me of him.
This study has witnessed the evolution of our relationship, our bond from strangers to teacher- student relationship, from being good friends to eternal lovers. The study room has been our secret keeper and has witnessed our longing and care for each other.

Sleep was no way to be found. To divert my mind, I went near the bookshelf, scrutinized the books which were arranged in a very proper manner, and took out a book naming "The Midsummer Night's Dream".

I thus, sat on chair, my back now the window as I kept the book on the long Mahogany table. I sometimes wonder what hard work would have taken to create this brilliant piece of table which had intricate designs of lions on the four of its legs and a table top, such glossy, in which one could see his/her reflection.

I opened the first page of the book and dug my head in it as I kept my hands crossed on the table. My mind, trying best to concentrate on the sentences of the book. After what felt like an hour, I sat straight on the chair, sensing the little hint of sleep.

As soon as I decided to close the book, a gale of wind jostled in the study room through the window, making the pages of the opened book flutter and my hair disheveled. I brushed my hairs with my fingers and tugged the hair strand behind the ears, only to get it disheveled again as the intensity of gale rose.

The window curtains fluttered in the air and the pages of the opened book whipped vehemently again. A piece of folded paper flew out from the fluttering pages due to the strong gale and landed on the floor.

I stood up straight to close the window with my right hand. My left hand , still holding my hair. Just after that, I bent down to pick up the folded paper which looked old.

Curiously, I opened it. And only to my surprise, I found it to be a letter.

It was dated " 20th August, 1926". My heartbeat rose as I read the first word of the letter……





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Dear Mishti,

It has been 2 years, 4 months and 21 days since you left for London. I know you must be fine. You must have made several new friends there by the time as who wouldn't want to have such a pure and caring friend's company.

I am happy to hear that you're having no problem with the western lifestyle. I heard from college officials that you are doing well in your academics.

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