I’ve always been fascinated by letter writing and postcards and the red and black colored archaic post-boxes. But I’ve only wrote letter once or twice. I wrote a letter to my grandfather and sent it through my mum who was visiting him, while he was on his deathbed. That was the last contact I had with him. My mother told me that he read the letter and kept it with him. I like to think I was present with him in his last moment somehow through a material thing. I am deeply saddened that the art of letter writing is dead. Everything it encompasses, the patience, the thought, the choice of words, the suspense and excitement, Everything about it is beautiful.
Today I was having a conversation over email with Amber, one of the bloggers I befriended through WordPress and honestly, she made the first attempt, which was really…
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