how true... even in this day and age, when communication is all about being net savvy, mine prefers to write letters... she feels it is more personal, calls for more involvement and most importantly, bears the touch (both of the mind and the hand)... and this when letters take aeons to come.
she writes a letter one month, posts it herself and right after that, calls me to say that she has sent a letter... when the post is on the way, whenever i call or she calls, one question definitely is: have you got my letter?
all this to say small details of her life, things which many a times, seem very trivial, but she needs to tell me, without bothering for a reply...
most of the questions in her letters go unanswered since how much information can one pack into a call (i have gone out of the habit of writing letters) and right after one letter has recahed me, there is always a promise of the next...
so the days when i come to office to find the pink envelope on my table, with the familiar handwriting, that same one which taught me my first alphabets, my day is made... feel i am on cloud nine.
On What Is Happening in Bangladesh
3 months ago
2 comments:
thank ur stars that the pink envelopes find their way to ur table instead of getting 'lost in transit'like Gogol's great grandma's. Like I said elsewhere u carry a slice of home with u.
yes, yes, i thank the stars every time that a letter reaches me and not like Ashima who never received that letter which would have saved so much agony for Gogol or Nikhil???
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