Blue Rose

Sarah used to write a letter everyday. Nobody knew what she wrote and to whom. But everyday, after coming back from school she would sit down on her study table, take out her notepad with a blue rose on every sheet on the left hand bottom and write the letter.

After finishing, she would put it neatly in a blue envelope and paste a stamp that would take her thoughts to their destination.

Sarah never received any letters. Ever afternoon she would wait anxiously for the mailman to deliver her mail but nothing ever came on her name.

“No mail for you even today sweetheart.” The mailman used to say.

At times Sarah gazed into the sky. And then set down to write her next letter with an impelling drive that was more then ever before. It was this verve in her that kept her going.

Today is an extremely cold winter afternoon. But it looks as if the evening has already set in. A nip in the air giving an arctic feeling beckons her back into the house after waiting for the mailman for almost three quarters of an hour.

As she set out to write her umpteenth letter, the doorbell rang and Sarah rushed out. The mailman was on the door with a big bright smile on his crumpled face with more wrinkle lines then the hair on his head.

“Mail for you”

“Thanks.”

She opened the envelope with a lot of curiosity. After all Graham had written to her for the first time.

“Graham doesn’t stay here anymore. He has gone to stay with the stars now. But I have kept together all the blue roses that you have sent in the last five years.

Graham’s mother.”

She kept on looking at the plain white sheet with a few words, for the next 10 minutes and sat down to write her next letter.

……………………………………………….

It seems that we have forgotten to write letters. Neither have I received nor written a letter in the last 10 years. And why not? With the availability of emails, cell phones, we don’t want to take the strain of writing a letter. But letters have their own whiff- of ink, of paper and of thoughts…