Remembrance of past things

 

     Nowadays no one writes letters anymore. Instead they prefer to chat. It is more convenient. Who will wait for days to share something with someone. They can do it everyday. Ask them about their day, tell them how they feel. There’s a lot of similarity between writing letters and chats. They both carry on the stories which has a past but no future. They hold promises. Some where kept and some where remained unfulfilled. A part of their lives which cannot be shared with anyone.

      In old days, you could find a rose between the pages of a letter. Some hand drawn doodles. A code language I guess. Chats have emoji’s. Instant emotion expressing element. Even if you’re not feeling it, they still carry them. Writing letter has a backdrop. You never know if it will reach to the person it has addressed to. If you will ever get an answer back from them. Blue tick took away they longing part from our life. Does ghosting existed back then ?

      In exchange of letters, there maybe a hundreds of them. And maybe more than thousands of messages in a chat. There’re always two parts to a letter. One belonging to the receiver and one which came back to the sender. If your’re lucky enough, you get to read the both of the parts. In chat, the involvement is clear. You don’t have to go anywhere to find it’s other half. Still if you will get a reply or not depends on the next persons moods. What if they fell Asleep? What if they leave you on seen ?

      Most of the times the content of the letters get so interesting you get eager to find the other half. The conversation comes to a point where you feel, “why did they stopped chatting ? why did they went offline ? Did they talked in person ?”

     Missing letters, getting blocked, half written letters, deleted old chats. Whatever might be the reason, it’s a story which got stuck in flow of time. The characters might have changed, the feeling might have lost or evolved by the time. it cannot go forward.

     But those words still carry meaning in them. Those conversation still feel alive. There’s a beauty in remembrance of past things and also a curse of haunting

Written by

Suraj_2310