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Letter to She_Rocker

Dear She_rocker,

         I remember I had written to you last time in the March of this year. That was a letter of no more than 10 sentences. I don't know whether you watched it. It might have been redirected to the junk folder, or it might have been deleted without being viewed. Or more possibly your boyfriend would have watched it and deleted before you could got it.

 The thing that provoked me to write you again is the first anniversary of the day. It has re-intensified the memories, which were on their own way to be blurred.

 Dear she_rocker, honestly I hope and I pray you are having a rocking life nowadays. I hope you are not getting disturbed by various factors as you used to be in the past.

 The span of one year was just the cascades of another day. Every morning is equally new for you and me. How we play the rhythm of sunshine does matter to us. But unfortunately, I never tried to judge the melody of the life after you left. I never tried to evaluate the strength of weakness in your absence. I never tried to measure the level of scratchiness in my life. I neither tried to miss you nor forget you. May be that way was good for myself.

 You know it is exactly one year since you flied away. And it is exactly 4 years since we met for the first time. The period of 4 years can bring a lot of transformations. But by the time, when we will be leaning at the armchair with our grandchildren around, the same period of four year of our collegehood seems to be a flash of second. The period of four year would hardly catalyze a piece of smile in the corner of your face and you would look to the small grandchildren playing outside and the photographed husband hanging on the wall. This is the reason why I am writing you now. At least the beautiful memories can be crafted into the words, as they didn't get space into anyone's heart.

 Thinking rationally, there was no concrete reason for why we met and why we were separated. I prefer every moments in the life to be called "expected unexpectedness". But the science of living and engineering of human nature don't want to be dealt emotionally. That was the factor you believed. And you threw some logical interpretations for why I can't be in relationship with you. I remember, you talked about differences between you and me and you talked about the mismatched wavelength. When we were talking about our favorite music, you said my interests don't match yours. And sympathetically you had asked me the meaning of "Alternative Rock". I remember how my face was blushed with silence. You had asked me the name of several singers and Hollywood artists. But I still don't remember any of the prominent names you said. Because they all are like the name of Italian foods for me.

 Well, she rocker, I don't think this letter deserve a decorative ending. I end it.

 

Cheers!!!!

Comments

  1. A man who publishes his letters becomed a nudist 
    nothing shields him from the world's gaze
    except his bare skin.
     
    A writter, writing away, can always fix himself up
    to make himself more presentable,
    but a man who has written a letter is stuck
    with it for all time.
                    
     
                                                                  
                                                                       E.B. white
     
     
     
    take care bye :P

    ReplyDelete
  2. my daily routine hanged over the wall of my room is incomplete without just 30 min..coz this is time for me to explore ur blog.....truely i go thru ur spaces least single time per day....even ive completed the base to summit of this page i find something new every next day....
    i comment on the PHYSICAl part of ur spaces which should be made more attractive
    saroj

    ReplyDelete

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Question

I love questions without answers And answers without question Tell me Would you answer Or question? Sometimes no question is question And silence Is the best answer How many questions exist between One silence to another silence How many answers Lie between One question to another I love moments without memories And memories without moments Would you be My memory or moment? If you asked me same question I would rather be silent.

ट्याक्सी नम्बर ५९५९

गंगा तटमा रचिएका टैगोरका आत्मकथा, सत्यजित रे र रितुपर्नो घोषका फिल्म, भुपेन हजारिकाका गीत र अरु यस्तै इधर-उधरले कलकत्ता जाने हुटहुटी लामो समयदेखि मनमा थियो । यसपालिको दशैं विदामा त्यो तिर्खाले शान्ति पायो । सँगै काम गर्ने हामी चार सहकर्मी एक-एउटा झोला भिरेर सुनौली हुँदै गोरखपुरको रेल पकड्न रमाना भयौं । उसो त कलकत्ता नेपालबाट सबैभन्दा नजिकैको बन्दरगाह पनि हो । पूर्वी नाका काकडभिट्टाबाट जाँदा धेरै छोटो पर्ने थाहा भइकन पनि हामी पश्चिमतिर लागेका थियौं । किनकि गोरखपुरबाट रेल धेरैबेरसम्म चढ्न पाइन्छ । भारत यात्रामा सँधै रेलले आकर्षण गर्छ । रेलमा दिनभरि, रातभरि दौडिरहनु मात्रै पनि यात्राको आधासरो आनन्द हो । गोरखपुरबाट बिस्तारै हिँडेको पूर्वान्चल एक्सप्रेस कहिले तुफान हुन्थ्यो कहिले कुनै अनजान पटरीमा अर्कोतिरबाट आएको रेलगाडीलाई साइड दिन घन्टौं कुरेर बस्थ्यो । रेलका हरेक डिब्बामा कम्तिमा चार वटा शौचालय हुन्छन् । तर यसरी अन्जान ठाउँमा रेल रोकिएको मौका पारेर यात्रुगणहरु ढोकाबाट फुत्त फुत्त जमीनमा हाम्फाल्थे र क्षितिजमा उडेका बकुल्लाका बथान हेर्दै मूत्र बिसाउँथे । स्टेशन न स्टेशन, कोही कोही प

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