postman never cometh to my door these days.
Happened to read an article by S.Ramakrishnan on the dying art of letter writing.I am sure most of us especially in my age group do really miss the letters that we used to receive at different points of time in our lives.I was thinking of the innumerable letters I had received in my life time.Some of these letters have lit up my world to no end .Some I have managed to preserve to this day.It is a pity that no one writes letters these days .It is another art that is dying out of this sms world.A letter brings with it the heart of the writer..
I remember writing my first letter to my aunt who worked as a teacher,I was hardly ten then.Memory of my elated state of mind on getting a reply from her is still green.My dads friend Nataraja mama gifted me an yearly subscription of Readers Digest when I was in my class nine.He had written a long letter along with it .He had a rather scholarly way of writing , rather a circumlocutory way.I remember getting a letter from a friend and a priest who was serving in a church in chennai . It was a thanks letter for my gift of Readers digest. It was a beautiful letter giving details of the inmates of the disabled home where he was working
Both my parents were great letter writers. Amma used to write in chaste Tamil and insist that I reply only in Tamil .I improved my Tamil a lot through these letters .After her demise there was nobody for me to write letters in Tamil How I miss those letters. After giving me away in marriage she used to write to me on a regular basis .Those letters brought to me a mothers love, how she was missing me and what a lonely life it was for her after I left her. After my daughter was born her letters started taking a new shape,full of tips for care of the newborn and also her yearning to know more about her grandchild.Her letter used to overflow with her love for me and my child.Losing a son and a daughter in her late years left her in a lurch. Especially the ten months she outlived my sister were extremely painful days. Her attempts to write normal letters on these days were always a failure. Somehow the deep anguish in her heart always used to spill out on these letters. My dad used to write my address and give her bunches of envelops which she used keep on posting at regular intervals A few days after her death I came across a dozen envelops with my address on them. Those unwritten envelops conveyed more to me than all the words she could have written . Those blank pages stood for the void in my life with which I would live for the rest of my life-a void created by a loving mother and her caring letters.
Appa was a great letter writer too. He used to write long letters to me perfect English. In fact for years he used to keep me updated on all the happenings in my hometown while I kept changing places every three years. He had a great sense of humor and there used to be an undercurrent of sarcasm and humor in his description of people and events.Over the years he started losing his elements but his letters used to be long and beautiful..
The letter that he wrote to me after I got my first year PG results was something I cherish to this day. He was at Andhra at that time. Every word in that letter used to swell with pride over his daughters achievement.Over the years life changed a lot for him.He outlived amma by thirteen years and these years were full of pain and loneliness. I used to be the only person to whom he could share his state of mind Letters written during this period used to reflect the loneliness and pain and the void in his life.I never knew that he loved my mom so much .May be he himself did not know that till he lost her. His letters written at the dusk of his life told me what a lonely man he was without his partner and how cruel life can be to an old lonely man. During these days it would take a week for him to complete a letter. But still he kept on writing to me.
After him I have not received any meaningful letter to this date. The art of letter writing died with my parents for me .
I remember writing my first letter to my aunt who worked as a teacher,I was hardly ten then.Memory of my elated state of mind on getting a reply from her is still green.My dads friend Nataraja mama gifted me an yearly subscription of Readers Digest when I was in my class nine.He had written a long letter along with it .He had a rather scholarly way of writing , rather a circumlocutory way.I remember getting a letter from a friend and a priest who was serving in a church in chennai . It was a thanks letter for my gift of Readers digest. It was a beautiful letter giving details of the inmates of the disabled home where he was working
Both my parents were great letter writers. Amma used to write in chaste Tamil and insist that I reply only in Tamil .I improved my Tamil a lot through these letters .After her demise there was nobody for me to write letters in Tamil How I miss those letters. After giving me away in marriage she used to write to me on a regular basis .Those letters brought to me a mothers love, how she was missing me and what a lonely life it was for her after I left her. After my daughter was born her letters started taking a new shape,full of tips for care of the newborn and also her yearning to know more about her grandchild.Her letter used to overflow with her love for me and my child.Losing a son and a daughter in her late years left her in a lurch. Especially the ten months she outlived my sister were extremely painful days. Her attempts to write normal letters on these days were always a failure. Somehow the deep anguish in her heart always used to spill out on these letters. My dad used to write my address and give her bunches of envelops which she used keep on posting at regular intervals A few days after her death I came across a dozen envelops with my address on them. Those unwritten envelops conveyed more to me than all the words she could have written . Those blank pages stood for the void in my life with which I would live for the rest of my life-a void created by a loving mother and her caring letters.
Appa was a great letter writer too. He used to write long letters to me perfect English. In fact for years he used to keep me updated on all the happenings in my hometown while I kept changing places every three years. He had a great sense of humor and there used to be an undercurrent of sarcasm and humor in his description of people and events.Over the years he started losing his elements but his letters used to be long and beautiful..
The letter that he wrote to me after I got my first year PG results was something I cherish to this day. He was at Andhra at that time. Every word in that letter used to swell with pride over his daughters achievement.Over the years life changed a lot for him.He outlived amma by thirteen years and these years were full of pain and loneliness. I used to be the only person to whom he could share his state of mind Letters written during this period used to reflect the loneliness and pain and the void in his life.I never knew that he loved my mom so much .May be he himself did not know that till he lost her. His letters written at the dusk of his life told me what a lonely man he was without his partner and how cruel life can be to an old lonely man. During these days it would take a week for him to complete a letter. But still he kept on writing to me.
After him I have not received any meaningful letter to this date. The art of letter writing died with my parents for me .
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