Theme 18 - Letters

From @SugarsNSpice: Dusted in heaps of dust, I removed it from a large pile of letters. It was a rare missive holding special significance for the hand that had written it. After numerous letters sent, this was a blessing reply. I smelled its hidden fragrance in secret abyss of my house. It still emitted aroma of love.

From @Gulabo_ : “Stoopid, how are you. Ok! Stop laughing. You know I miss you and loved you too much to express it in words. Actually Mom misses you the most. Dad and I raise a toast remembering you. I’m scared I’m forgetting the taste of Maggi you would cook for me at 1am. Love you always.”Your Sister…

From @leztah: Dear 24 year old me. This is my final transmission. The inter-dimensional portals will be sealed with the multiverse collapse. Forgive me for sticking with this dying universe. We should have never created that black hole. Such immense power was never meant to be. We must mend this realm. Initiate Operation Big Bang.

From @AbhiandNow: “I've received a letter from my father.” “That's nice Chintu, my parents never write me one. They call me once a week, to check if I’m alive.” “No Pintu, it isn't a nice thing.” “Why, what happened?” “I wasn’t supposed to get a letter from him.” Is anything wrong?” “Yup, he died four years ago.”

From @roshd: It was Rose Day in college and 2 months since they broke up. Alan was not a man of many words though he loved writing letters. He opened the rose day card and wrote in his most beautiful handwriting “Dear Ashwini- Please find enclosed herewith my heartfelt feelings for you in parentheses.”( )Demon exorcised.

From @radhikamohandas: Letters? Handwritten ones? You can smell them, and cry over them. You can fold and unfold them till the corners are torn and the folds threaten to spilt words. Till the words dull away because your eyes devoured them over. Lock them away like secrets. You can feel letters. And you can love them too.

From @TropicalAnda: And then in a flash, it's back to goodbye again. She sees the familiar look of pain in his confused eyes. She held control over him but not today, watches his back as he departs. Her eyes now fixed on that letter from Indian Army -“He was a brave soldier.” she reads to her children.

From @IndianIdle: Anuj was furious. He had been robbed of his precious house. Hurriedly he wrote a letter and went straight to the court. He gave the letter to lawyer and said "This is legal notice for god. Tell him to return my house, or I won't talk". Lawyer stared at the 5 year old .

From @labellagorda: Scraps of paper bound together with twine…they contain evidence of a life that once was, a love that once bloomed and a dream that was shattered. What remains are pieces of yellowed parchment, some tear stained, some worn out from reading and re-reading and reading yet again. All stowed away in a shoebox of memories.

From @moonsez: The writing desk looked forlorn. The fountain pen felt neglected. The blotter lay there quietly. The inkpot gathered dust. The letter papers appeared frayed. “Strange to call it letter-writing, but all my correspondence is done for the day.” She thought as she efficiently clicked the send button once more.

From @SomyaSingh24: “You have to take his case Sam” “But he’s guilty” “He’s the CM’s son!” “He’s a murderer!” “You have no other option.” The night passed in reverie. The HLS Grad-day picture adored the wall. The Young Achiever Award for Law Firm 2012 stood on the shelf. “Sir, I have another option. Here’s my Resignation Letter.”

From @WickdWeirdWitch: Longingly he waited for postman’s bicycle’s tinkle. Rushed to letter-box & treasured her letter. He then ran madly to post-office to post his reply. Walked contently back to his abode & opened her letter, while listening to Ghalib’s à “qaasid ke aate aate, khat ek aur likh rakhoon…..main jaanta hoon jo wo likhenge jawaab mein”…

From Proteem Bhaduri: He didn’t need to actually read the letters. He pretty much already knew what they would tell him. She missed him. She regretted her decision to leave. She wanted a second chance. Yes, the letters hinted at happier tidings. But he knew this already. As he should. After all, he had written them to himself.

From @realfartshady: Hey Vivek,I found out about your blog, 'Fifty Five Word Stories' from a friend and found it very interesting. With a week of reading I came across some mind blowing brilliance. So I decided to write a story myself. I sat down at my computer, lit a cigarette and came up with nothing…forgot to sign...

From @abhikbee: There you are Phoneme; you love drunk kamikaze, why have you been skirting behind the shadows? Come now, look what the rude post-man delivered, neon green envelop and a scarlet letter. He knew I couldn’t read phone calls. Such an agreeable letter, come let’s hurry to the funeral. But first, let me bathe you Phoneme.

From @purplebrains: The postman died today. A cardiac arrest, they said. Brought on by the forced retirement from his life's only passion. Hundreds came for his funeral, tucking letters they wrote for their down deceased in his postman jhola. And that night in heavens above, even the angels could hear his ecstatic call of "chitthi aayi hai!".

From @kunalbaidmehta: "What will you do now?" she asked him. "I don't know. This is what I have always done. Its not their fault." "They fired you from your job of 37 years and you say it's not their fault?" "Times have changed. People dont send letters anymore so what's the use of a postman like me."

From @whimsytales: Another dark night on the border. He wont see the dawn. Bleeding profusely, his heart didn't ache because of the bullet so much as it did when he thought of his old mother. "Dont let her know.Write to her after I'm gone. One letter, every month. She'll live only if I will". Last wish.

From @JaaaChudail: She stared out of her psych ward. People acted stupid all around. They were crazy. They were lunatic. They were bizarre. They were pathetic. They were, most of all, pitiable. It was 7 years since she’s been here. 7 years, since she madly craved for a letter from the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

From @melittlepixie: 'Mom… it’s finally here. I thought Dad had forgotten about me’, Peter said sadly. Letters from his father were a custom for four years now. ‘He can never forget you, sweetheart’, Yale smiled. She never told Peter that he was a bastard child. She made a mental note to post the letters earlier next month.

From @Dimaagi_Keeda: Mr. Iyer was an octogenarian. A dignified man; who had served the Indian Army with much pride and valor. His bravery and courage though was rewarded with apathy and disrespect, not befitting an honorary ex army man. He wrote a note to the president. His last. It read: India, No Country for Old Army Men.

From @sukhkarni: 'Omg! You know there's a hot guy who recently joined??' 'Yeah?' 'I think I have a crush on him. Will propose him this Valentine's!' 'Super!!' She mustered all her courage, handed him over a letter expressing her liking and ran away. Next day, she found a paper airplane on her desk. It was 'that' letter.

From @ScribblingOn: Sitting on the edge with a box, eyes swollen, hands trembling, she drifted to that day, reading the letter aloud. A tear fell, the ink smudged, a blot appeared & the only reminiscence of her illusionary, beautiful past was now marred. Later, as she saw the flames ablaze, devouring her prized possession, another tear fell.

From @Sanch_N: She checked the letter to see if the time was right, yes it said 12pm. But there was no one, it was eerily quiet. She heard shuffling noises and it scared her. She turned around to be faced with a red rose and another letter lying on the ground, it read, “I now set you free.”

From @Itemboi: Lines rehearsed, flowers bought and confidence tucked in; Aditya was ready for his big day. He was giving his unrequited love one last shot by confessing those three magic words to her. Heart beats went fast. His bike faster. And faster. Three words still in mind, he opens his eyes to three letters - ICU.

From @gauravjagwani: He wrote. I read. Dear, Beloved Reader, Letters make words. Words make a sentence. Sentences make a paragraph. Paragraphs make a page. Pages make a chapter. Chapters make a book. This book is full of letters. Letters, I write to you all. This is the first one. I hope you get to the next one.

From @lady_shweta: "he was a man of letters but he never wrote any letters to her."

From @iPurpilicious: She was irrevocably in love with him. She was just a phase in his life. Eventually, he dumped her & walked all over her broken heart. Ten years later, he got a letter from her, 'I tried but I couldn't live without you'. A tear rolled down his cheek. She left but her absence lingered.

From @EternalScrewUp: Akbar grew impatient. He was eight miles away from the fields of Panipat. He checked his bbm for the millionth time. The Blackberry Server was down; he shook his head in disapproval. Instantaneously, a boy sprinted with a letter from Bairam Khan. The Mughals had won the battle. Completely satisfied, “Fuck RIM” is all he uttered.

From @NarinderKapur: I wrote you many verses, each in timed quatrain. I wrote you multiple essays, each moving like a twelve coach train. I wrote you your ‘A’s’, your ‘B’s’, ‘C’s and ‘D’s’. I wrote you your pain, at every slap with such ease. Forgive me dear daughter, for I have no more words to say.

From @ToobaFazlani : She wasn't too good in speaking out her feelings, but when it came to writing them down, very few could beat her. People said, her words created magic. She wrote down her feelings for him but never could summon the courage to pass those letters on to him. He got to read them though. He read them on the day she died.

From @OldMonkBaba: Unopened White envelope, Gandhi’s pic on right corner, “TO” has my name and address, “FROM” has her name and address. It must have changed 10 hands, but I still can smell her hand, happiness in heart, the smile on face, the tears in her eyes, thats what they do, her unopened letters.

From @abstractions_ : Theirs was a new age love story minus the love letters. They exchanged emails, offlines on messengers and DMs on twitter. Kabir had finally accepted the truth and was looking forward to the future with Niyanta. He went ahead, filter > select all > delete. The itunes was playing Jagjit Singh - 'aag behte huue pani me...

From @Ace_Of_Pace: Tonight my thoughts constantly crumble around me like houses disintegrating in a fire. Tis' strange how I now value your love much greater when I am sure of losing it. Tomorrow, I cross the final bridge of death. Smile for me dearie and take your hand in mine to help me across.

From @PeachBiscuit: "My dear daughter, your letter has made us really happy. Send a photo of the baby. I hope your husband and mother-in-law treat you well. Miss you. Mom". She weeped, hid the letter in the pocket near her bruised hip and went back into the house to her crying baby, angry husband and moody mother-in-law.

From @Marwaari: It was the last counseling session before the court trial started. The decision which altered my life forever. All this would end, really soon, I thought. Will forget her, I reaffirmed. The bell rang, Something slid under the door. A letter it was, "I Miss You Papa, Please don't leave us for another mummy" it read.

From @Gods_Evangelos: It is a genuine collection. I can say that life is alive in those letters yet. I can go back to those moments and relive them when I see them. They give me a journey of smiles, hope and spark again to live for such moments are more to come. They define my eternal life-cycle.

From @sarcogenic: Book Antiqua, Garamond, Monotype Corsiva. Taking out her fountain pen, she finally wrote the letter in long hand. She thought about the flowers. Red, Purple, Yellow. The colors of the bruises. The colors of the flowers he brought her afterwards. Nobody will ever buy me flowers again, she smiled.

From @hiway: "I'm leaving my everything to you." read his will. "A motorcycle?" "Yeah, he always was this crazy." "About her, yes. I'll take her" interjected a small voice. Her stash of "Letters from Highway" written by her grampa was about to find a new life, of being re-written as she traced his journey once again.

From @anushreekejriwa: She never saw her grandmother but knew that she looked exactly like her. People spoke highly about grandma, from her inexplicable beauty to charitable nature. While cleaning the trunk she stumbled upon some letters that granny had written,the yellow pages caught her attention as they are the only treasured memories she now has.

From @The_Lie_Lama: Mother, would I die without seeing you for the last one time? They tortured me for 11 years in the POW camp. I had written to you, I will escape one day and head back in your arms. I am here with barely a month to survive. Where are you? You never got my letters?

From @wekneweachother: I just received your letter today. My hands were slightly wet as I had rushed from the kitchen to sign the courier. I read my name on the envelope and that familiar cursive handwriting made me speechless. You had written just a few words on a photo of the two chairs. You still remember me.

From @khatteemithi: The first letter that he ever wrote. ‘Dear Tania. I am Tanmoy. Our name share common leters. Hence I wrote you one. Friends?’ Tania replied. ‘You spelt letters wrong, loser!’ Tanmoy squealed in glee! ‘yay she replied!’ Aaah the beauty of letters! 55 yr Tanmoy reminisced seeing his son type an email.

From @captain_speakin: On the first bench of standard three sat a very excited Zara. She loved English. Today they were learning to write a letter. The teacher said “write a letter to your dad, asking him to come back home early”, Zara went blank; she knew her dad wasn’t coming back ever. She hated writing letters since.

From @_PWN: Somebody wanted his money. Someone wanted his time. Of love, he had only read about in books. And then she came along. Now, he received love in her letters to him. Her fragrant letters, stained with her tears of love.

From @ChhotaRecharge: 14 months!!! Even after his family and friends gave-up; she didn’t…she couldn’t! She thought they connected…but now...GONE, without a goodbye. Re-reading the hastily scribbled “THANKYOU” for the 1000th time, a fresh stream of tears rolled down her cheeks. “REHANA, Ward 24!” Wiping her tears, tucking the letter in her apron…time to attend her new patient.

From @VijCheers: The war was on. He was the only one left with 3 rounds of fire and 2 grenades. The pride was in, battling with the fear to make the last attack. He did it. Two weeks later; wrinkled eyes struggling to read his last letter: “Sorry ma, you will have to wait forever”.

From @MissBlurrii: I have written to him, with him and for him. My father is very particular while writing. A simple message too, won't end without "Regards". But there is one thing consistent over all these years. All his letters,birthday/text messages to me, still begin with: Dear DDD...P.s. Daddy's Darling Daughter.

From @Oven_Tikka: It was before email. For 15 years they wrote to each other. Pen pals, never meeting. He went on to join the army and as luck would have it, got posted to her hometown. Today, after 15 years and 2 children, she’s with his mother, he’s in Kashmir. And they’re still writing to each other.

From @michramiah: A bead of sweat falls onto the blank page, rolling down for a split second, before soaking in. He is frightened by how quickly the drop drys up and disappears, leaving nothing but a minute, insignificant crinkle on the page. He does not know how to begin explaining his decision to make this the end.

From @purplebrains: The postman died today. A cardiac arrest, they said. Brought on by the forced retirement from his life's only passion. Hundreds came for his funeral, tucking letters they wrote for their down deceased in his postman jhola. And that night in heavens above, even the angels could hear his ecstatic call of "chitthi aayi hai!".

From @theslumdawg: I have seen pigeons carrying love letters(Movies), I have seen a person in Khaki uniform carrying letters(Postman), I have seen people with colored cloths delivering letters(Courier), I have seen letters being sent with just one click (Internet). I have seen it all, yet to receive one.

From @HelenofAhoy: Meenakshi wrote a letter to her son in Dubai. “For your sister’s
wedding, send some gold coins”. Her son replied, “Oh mother, your letter made me sweat in my AC room.” He sent 3 gold coins. His mom returned them and wrote, “Son, we don’t have a fan here. But, you are poorer than me.”

From @RjSucharita: Today at school, 7 year old Aditya casually mentioned his mother didn’t have good character. Upon asking what lead him to the conclusion, he produced a family tree she had drawn for him. On it were mentioned his ‘four fathers’. I will have to talk to Mrs. Mathur about the difference two letters can make.

From @EatTweetBlog: "Naked in her bed, between the sheets, her crystal body longed for her deceased husband's touch. She pulled out a pack of letters. Unable to read, they were old with the ink smudged, she held them close to her bosom. Moments later, she felt something running down her thighs. She felt like a complete woman again."

From @textuallyhorny: “When was the last time you wrote me a love letter?” asked Sanjay. “What’s in it now?!” confronted Shalini. “A token of love may be…” She wrote him one that night. Headlines: Shalini Khanna arrested. She was a prime suspect for a high profile murder case and he was a handwriting expert with the CBI.

From @KarishmaRawat: The last time I had seen Khushi, she was 6. My heart wept when I met my daughter, after 11 wretched years. All grownup, practical and indifferent she had become. Every night I read her childhood letters innumerable number of times. Clinging to my little girl, who used to ask, for a house of chocolates.

From @quirkyrebel: For a brief period she visited from her hometown. Interning at an agency, she grew fond of the colleagues. But one stood out. He reciprocated. When it was time to return, they just had to part. Handwritten letters is the only way they wanted the most of each other to be felt. And they continue...

From @Capt_Ck : As an intern at a corporate firm, it was a fairy tale romance for her, perfect job, perfect boss whom she totally adored and fell in love with, dinner dates, flirty bbms et all. She was waiting for a raise, but he called her into his office and gave her the "Letter" of Termination!! #Life

From @thebongbabe: The kids crowded together, giggling, sticking their tongues out to catch the last raindrops. ‘Let’s, make paper boats!’ exclaimed one. Seeing them hunt for paper, Samay handed them a crumpled sheet – and watched as the tiny boat floated down the storm drain. His first love letter, scorned by her, had at least found some purpose.

From @shivangiyadav: “Kakima chitthi,” Addu called. As Addu, her tenant, started regaling her about life in US, her eyes misted. The letters from US had not come for months. Panicky she sought Addu’s help. The letter’s started soon. She discovered he wrote them, hiding them where she could not see. He was not her son, and for that she was grateful.

From @BrainyShady: Long distance relationship. So what? They were madly in love. Not knowing how to send his heart across the oceans, he wrote her letters, every night, dipping the nib in the ink of his love, on a fabric woven out of his love. She saved all of them secretly, knowing she was EVERYTHING to him.

From @mental_Aunty: Enclosed, Alive, Quiet but not Mute, what secrets do I carry? Will I break someone's heart? Will they jump with joy when I arrive? Or will I be thrown away? The person was crying, I clearly remember, when I came to life. Where will I go today? I am a letter, I've secrets within me.

From @parekhit: Letter from God, with love. Close your eyes, try looking at me. If you don't find me, your thoughts are not free.

From @randomWhiz: Mom, what do you miss most about your youth? You dad, she says. He wrote letters. Thesaurus in hand, to impress me, as well as to deceive your grandpa.
Our secret exchanges they were, yes indeed. He scented them with marigold too, my favorite flower. Now he just sends a text ordering dinner specials. Sigh.

From @JestChill: She sighed, waiting anxiously outside the house, near the gate. It was hot! Shading her eyes, she looked down the road, both sides, eyes anxiously searching...it's been a fortnight now, where was he? Namasteji, yeh lijiye, aapke khat. 15 hain. He didn't forget, her heart sang, a letter for each day he was away...

From @floydianbrahman: Picking up the piece of chalk, he walked reluctantly towards the blackboard. A sickly smell of déjà vu pervaded through the moment. He was special, they said. He didn't feel such two bits. The written word was his ruin; the letters nemesis. Echoes of laughter filled the classroom. He had spelled his name wrong.

From @xmanishaa: ‘Dear Grandma, I miss you and I love you. I know your eyes aren’t working well, so that’s why I drew a candle at the end of this letter, I don’t think they have candles up above. Loads of love, Anne’ She folded the letter and put it in front of her grandmother’s picture.

From @Sychlops: As the car whizzes past him, he stands there, motionless, wondering what went wrong this time. The envelope, still clutched in his hand. He was sure he'd give it to her this time. Takes the familiar walk back home. Opens his Box titled "Letters Undelivered" and flings it in with the rest. Then mutters to himself "Someday".

From @rbd_sqrl: Dear Jane, The typewriter has been malfunctioning of late. Letters keep getting mixed up. A cat would become a bat. And sometimes it becomes a vat. Sometimes it makes so little sense and sometimes it makes more sense than it should. Its very bothersome to say the least. I need your help. Yours Sincerely, Austen.

From @Freelosopher: P glanced enviously at J, K and L. "This is not fair", yelled P.
"After all this while together, you put us on opposite ends? I have O, but it's not the same without Q." Z looked amorously up at A. They'd been kept apart since time
immemorial. The year was 1878. Qwerty was born.

From @shakWrites: The old man slipped his shivering hands into the box and pulled out a few envelopes. These were the only friends he had left. The ones he could watch whenever he chose to and be swept away in the million memories they'd spill. These few letters from his long deceased wife. His one true love.

From @bitchwanti: The ring of the postman's cycle she awaited eagerly. The scent of his letters she wanted to fill in her nostrils. The fragrance of ink, she breathed in as she poured her heart out for him. Today, her grey hair tucked into a stately bun, she waits for the ping of her phone. The love letters are now emails, that still make her blush.

From @thebigdowg: Unemployed and chasing his dream, he felt lonely. Dejection was knocking on his door and he was running out of options. He removed an old letter from his wallet, barely readable, his fingers traced a line, "We are proud of you, son." He knew he had all the support he would ever need. He wasn't alone.

From @akshayabansal: Growing impatient, the excitement palpable on her face. Her furry companion egged her on to throw the ball far away. Her dolls felt neglected, imaginary friends felt dismayed, the tea-set lay unattended as she transfixed her eyes upon the gate. For today was the day she received letters from her father, a thousand miles away.

From @exprncdvirgin: He wrote her two letters and left them on her desk, not wanting to involve a friend again. One explained why he said to her friend what he did. The other offered sincere apologies for the shame his action had caused her. She used the random looking bits of paper to spit gum.

From @greyalchemy: The first sentence read "I long your warmth. Soon this war will end and together we will be. Love, J". She cried. She cried every time she glanced at his signature, that little heart he drew was genuinely the only thing she'd ever borrowed.But, the refugee never returned and all that was left were a bunch of letters.

From @peckishminx: Hello there, stranger! There's so many things I'd like to tell you tonight, but words fail me..as always! I stay up all night, stalking you! You don't sense my presence, but obviously! I cringe and fade into the shadows. I knew hearts break, they shatter. I vow to be strong, but heartbreak never brings with it courage. No, they never were compatible.

From @LadyClonidine: The boy cycled furiously in the blazing sun. Sweating in his school blazer. Finally reaching the cottage , he ran onto the porch and breathlessly took his regular seat. “You're late boy” , the old man grumbled and withdrew an old, yellow, crumpled letter from his pocket “March 23rd 1944, Kohima. Roxxane babe, the Jap's are here....”

From @tweettabulous: They were moving to a bigger home after a decade of togetherness. While clearing the attic he stumbled on a box with letters. Curiosity made him peek. He knew that beautiful writing, it definitely was his wife…addressed to him, but never mailed.Explaining, how she would always be in love his brother and not him.

From @awsmbong: Letters are unfailingly kind. With an ampoule of a fresh brew would give you your own world. A place where your dreams would not even think of. Your body will decay, but those little combinations of 26 letters would linger on, forever. Hence letters become characters, so rightfully. Precisely 140. Your foot-steps from heaven.

From @RiddhiAswani: "The sound of rapidly approaching wings disturb my sleep. A crash against the window. Once. Twice. I walk towards the glass pane, annoyed, but mostly afraid of the dark. The package falls on the table, the hooting bird circling before perching on a chair. Happiness and relief in my heart. My Hogwarts letter is here."

From @dinkypinkybrain: Fluffy clouds were puffs of smoke, from her chimney he was sure. Morning sun was his tender kiss to tell her he wasn't too far. He knew she was sad when it drizzled. In the rustle of leaves, she could hear his laughter. Never apart, they shared their lives with these everyday letters of love.

From @sahilk: I wonder if comparing Angel Jibreel, aka Gabriel, to e-mail would be
considered blasphemy. I mean, I get my class notes via e-mail. Prophet Muhammad got his notes via Jibreel. I’m sure someone from the previous generation would’ve made a similar comparison with respect to handwritten letters. I just hope his tongue wasn’t slashed off.

From @Goddamittt: Summer of 99. The town Post-office Head sat glum in his house. He was to effect cutbacks because of decline in number of letters being processed. Just as his son started to explain the reason, he stormed out. Entered the post-office & yelled: “Who is this Email and why didn’t anyone tell me about him?”

From @iamafairytale: I miss you. I love you. Happy Birthday. Thank-you. I am sorry. Be my valentine. Friends Forever. These themed letters all fell on the floor, while I was there sitting cleaning the closet. My gloomy face suddenly had a smile. Two months since Arnab died, these letters just made me feel he is somewhere near.

From @OhTeri_: She wrote her feelings on paper. They never had conversations.
Just the gaze, and he understood everything she wanted to say. Love, they were in.
DISTANCE never matter, they thought. She, wrote letters and dropped it secretly near his place. Soon, he got the letter with tears smudging the words. DISTANCE, did it, she blamed.

From @Aarom_Ramsey: The faded ink and the old parchment were the only testament of time. Memory of the summer spent and a few tear drops were still fresh on it. This was the marriage proposal sent forty-five years ago. She was still to come to terms with the fact that it had found its way to her four decades later.