“Imiss letters!” sighed one of us at lunch. “Nobody writes them anymore. Instead of letters, we get so many phone calls.
What happened to those letter writers? Have they gone with the wind?” Even in my childhood, I loved to write letters and receive them. We did not, however, exchange letters with our close friends because we met them regularly. Newspapers carried pen pal corners giving the names and addresses of children who liked to exchange letters.
Some of them were from distant places in the island. A few of them were from foreign countries. To improve my writing skills I used to correspond with those who were willing to write in English.
There were a few foreign pen pals who used to correspond with me regularly. Most of them were quick to reply my letters. Letter writing was an art by itself.
I had a writing pad, a few envelopes and some stamps. The postage for a letter was five cents. I used to fill a page with sentiments while breathing heavily.
I signed the letters with four colours of crayon. I did not know how to write addresses on envelopes. Therefore, I depended heavily on my mother to do that job.
But I loved to affix stamps on the right hand corner of the envelopes. Then I walked to the nearest post office to mail my letters. I was curious to know how those letters reached the recipients.
Even my mother did not know the geography or the limits of reality of the working of the post office. But I knew that all the letters put into a post box would find their destination in a miraculous way. Whenever the postman rings the bell, he used to say, “A letter for you.
” I ran to him and accepted the letters. But I opened the letters with trembling fingers. I stared at the mysterious and beautiful shapes of words.
Mother used to bend over me and read the letters aloud to their extraordinary conclusion. We looked at each other and popped our eyes! I used to read such letters more than once. It took me some time to learn the cardinal principle of correspondence: Who writes, receives.
To receive letters, you have to write them regularly. In the Digital Age, we think we have no time to write letters. We have forgotten the fact that to get a letter is one of life’s incomparable joys.
Pen pals I have been writing letters to so many pen pals ever since, earning as I go the tremor of anticipation whenever I hear the postman’s bell. I hoped to find something new in every letter I received. Sometimes they asked me questions to get me pondering.
At other times, they came out with surprising events. I was so obsessed with writing and receiving letters. I felt sad whenever I did not receive a letter.
I went through my teenage years polishing the art of letter writing. After marriage, our own children never wanted to write letters as they belonged to a different generation. Today, newspapers no longer publish the names and addresses of pen pals.
Letters have sent me across Europe, into foreign wilderness, out to sea. I have never met my pen pals nor have I heard their voices. Regular letter writing, perhaps, pushed me into my profession as a writer.
Unlike talk, letters are tangible – to read and reread, to show around and share, or to tuck in a pocket and think about. Letters allow you to reflect and ruminate. They sharpen your wits and philosophical outlook.
If you read a letter after a long time, you will recollect the past and wished for future. They are the expressions of our human lonesomeness and sociability, the commitments we make. Therefore, we used to preserve those letters.
Love letters With letters I used to receive some extras. They included a few currency notes, old but valuable stamps, photographs, plane tickets and various other mementoes. The pleasure you get is tremendous.
Although I used to collect the letters, some of them have disappeared when we moved houses. Luckily, I have managed to save my love letters. Family letters are a precious resource.
When you begin a career, you have to leave home and live in a distant place. Then you start writing letters to your parents and friends. Those days we continued to write letters even if we had nothing much to say.
It is enough to write about a Sunday outing, violin lessons, a minor accident, or the antics of your pet cat. I concede, it’s not easy to find time to write letters today. However, we cannot deny the fact that there is tremendous pleasure in writing letters.
Those who receive letters are touched, happily surprised and the recipients will write back in their own good time. It is marvellous if you can write a letter at least occasionally. It is not so difficult to find time to write a letter to someone you care.
Phone and video calls are fine, but they do not have the permanent human touch. Advice from Chesterfield If you are really interested in writing letters, here is advice from Chesterfield: “Let our letters be written as accurately as possible – I mean as to language, grammar and stops; but as to the matter of it the less trouble you give yourself the better it will be. Letters should be easy and natural and convey to the person to whom we send just what we should say if we were with them.
” The value of writing letters can be understood if you happen to read the letter Abraham Lincoln wrote to his son’s teacher. Here are some excerpts: “So dear teacher, will you please take him by his hand and teach him things he will have to know, teach him but gently, if you can. Teach him that for every enemy, there is a friend.
He will have to know that all men are not just, that all men are not true. But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero that for every crooked politician, there is a dedicated leader. “Teach him to be gentle with people, tough with tough people.
Steer him away from envy if you can and teach him the secret of quiet laughter. Teach him, if you can how to laugh when he is sad. Teach him there is no shame in tears, teach him there can be glory in failure and despair in success.
Teach him to scoff at cynics.” [email protected].
