Skip to main content

The disappearing art of letter writing

Do you remember last time when you wrote a letter to someone? Honestly, I can't tell when last time I wrote a personal letter to anybody. My last written communication was in the year 2009 when something was wrong with my SBI account and I wrote an application to the branch manager regarding this. But it's been 7 long years since I have not used pen and paper for writing anything thoughtful as a letter! Why am I tossing around letter writing? Because recently I got a chance to listen to a lady who made me realize that nothing can replace letter writing, although we now have better new age communication mediums like email, texting, facebook and many more.
The lady, Laxmi, is a social entrepreneur and most importantly a family person. She shared that she traveled countries to countries for many years because of her work needs. And during these years, she couldn't meet her aging father with much of time. However, her father did an amazing thing in last two years of his life as he was continuously sick. He wrote letters to his daughter and filled a notebook with his thoughts about her. He addressed the strength and weaknesses of his daughter. He also gave her suggestions for improvement of her life in that notebook. After he passed away, Laxmi felt guilty of not giving much time to her father. But she has letters of his father and those letters changed her panorama about communication. Those handwritten letters still make her feel the presence of his father. Letters have the same, unique yet very known handwriting which is the best font of this world for her.  Laxmi says "whenever I read these letters, I feel connected with my father. This is the same paper which my father had touched and now it is in my hands." How thoughtful is that! Far after we are gone, no one will care about the million texts we have sent. But a letter lasts. 
I got emotional hearing Laxmi's story how letter writing has become special in her life. Letter writing is becoming a disappearing art, a vintage skill. The flow of the pen gracefully etching out one's thoughts into the paper about someone else. I know it is crazy to think about letter writing in this text-crazy world but I miss it.My childhood has seen the charm of letter writing and whenever I recall those days, I get nostalgic. I remember my massi (my mother's elder sister) used to send my mother a letter every month and my mother used to cry after reading massi's letter. The affectionate way in which my massi used to write letters to my mother, was really beautiful. I used to write postcards to my grandfather. It was really fun to write a letter to someone. You wanted to write so many things but space was limited. Still, feelings got exchanged gracefully. There was no assurance when the letter would reach its destination yet people used to write to their loved ones. And receiving a letter from your dear ones was no less than an award which people used to treasure.
I have taken a mission; it is to convince others that handwritten letters should and could make a comeback! Every parent wants kids to inherit good part of his/her life. And I am thinking about passing the legacy of letter writing to my son. And for that, I would also write letters to my son which I am hoping he'll read in future.
Start writing a letter to your loved ones, it feels really good, believe me!


Listen This Post Stop Listening Post

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My 'Invisible' Accomplishments #DecadeHop #RRxMM

As we entered 2020, through this post I am trying to contemplate the coolest, most daring, and most significant feats of my life during the last decade. Now the more I regress my memory, the more I feel there are two types of achievements or accomplishments that I can ponder upon; Visible and Invisible. Visible ones are those that I can count on my finger like a parrot and others can nod also. I got specs on, married to a not-so-romantic man, produced a baby, started writing and added good 17 kgs in my body volume (I was 50 in 2011). However, there are many invisible accomplishments too that either I know silently or very few can assert.

From 2011 to 2019, Who am I now

From a coy soul to now an outspoken woman, the trek was not easy. I achieved it. From being a no-makeup girl to now a lipstick swatches observer, the transition was tough. But it happened. And from being a sweet hater to now a sweet lover, the change was mysterious yet occurred. And now I can die for Gulab Jamuns. And I…

#TheWomanThatIAm #RRxMM I am not the woman who..

I am not the mother who..
I am not the mother who stayed longer with her newborn, I resumed office when he was barely 2 months old. I am not the mother who witnessed each of my kid's milestones, I got to know them when being told. I am not the mother who could tell breastfeeding stories, my child is a formula-fed gold. I am not the mother who keeps the house spotless, I let my son scatter toys and go overbold. I am not the mother who manages a detailed list for parenting chores, I often keep my to-dos on hold. I am not the mother whom people admire, I hear people calling me selfish and cold.
ALSO I am a doting mother who tries to juggle between family and work every other minute.  I am a mother who watches silly cartoons with my boy.  I am a mother who repeatedly tells the same story every night.  I am a mother who cooks my son's favorite food every week.  And I am also a mother who is the closest person in my son's life!
I am not the wife who..
I am not the wife who has her biological…

My Monsoon Love Hate Love Story

Last year, almost the same time, I packed every belonging of mine and landed to a place which is close to my heart. With bag and baggage, my family moved from Delhi to Lucknow. It was monsoon time when I came here and thank god I witnessed a prosperous rain. Lucknow, though smaller compared to Delhi, is a place I distinguish since childhood. The city of Nawabs is believed as the happiest city in India. As our move was well calculated, my husband and I made sure to have all those things in our lives that I missed being in Delhi. A bigger house (that we can afford), green surroundings, street food access that we missed in Delhi and people who talk in our native tongue.

The Hate Story

I hated the rain when I was in Delhi. My house was in a busy lane of a crowded Delhi locality, and I was living on the second floor of the building. Hence neither I had easy access to the road, nor to terrace. When it rained, I was forced to stay inside. Roads used to get sunk even after the rain of half an…