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Who Reads Your Letters? Part 3...the Last Part

Discussion in 'Stories (Fiction)' started by creativemind23, Aug 10, 2016.

  1. creativemind23

    creativemind23 Silver IL'ite

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    But who is P? P is my father’s friend. Yes! He is Uncle P for me. When I was a child, our families spent a lot of time together. I often felt that the bonding between us was far stronger than that of our close relatives. We never judged each other. We never expected much from each other. We just had a very relaxed time whenever we met, happy nestling in the comfort of being ourselves, never pushing to please the other. Uncle P had 2 daughters, both of whom he lost that night in the terrorist attack. Aunty P who also passed away that night was a sweetheart too. Even now when I talk about them it’s hard for me to believe that they are no more. Even after so many years, their absence hurts me.

    But that night was the darkest night for him. He was in a state of shock for a very long time. He was almost guilty of being alive. My parents visited him often. They even asked him to move close to where they live. But he refused. Barely able to come to terms with reality, he slowly turned towards alcohol. Drinking became his unwelcome companion. My parents spoke to his family, who tried sending him for counselling and rehabilitation, but in vain. Long ago when my mother mentioned this to me, I pondered hard on what I could do to help him. I remembered all the times in the past when he used to shower me with the same affection as his daughters. The most powerful thing about him for me was that he believed in my writing far more than anyone else. In fact, he sent many of my poems to children’s magazines and newspapers. They got published. I glowed at the accomplishment

    In these past 10 years, I have tried to meet him many times, but he has refused to meet me and my family. Maybe I remind him of his daughters. I don’t know the reason. That’s when I started writing to him. I do not write to remind him of the past. I do not write to make him forget it either. I write because I love to write and he loves to read what I write. Most often it is a bunch of poems. Many times I send him an essay on current issues. Rarely, I also send him a piece of my fiction writing. He never replies. But I know that he reads them all with rapt attention and in great detail. He told my mother this when he last spoke to them on the telephone that my writing has evolved. I should never stop writing he said. What touched me most was when he said to my mother “every time I feel I should drink myself to sorrow, I pick up and read one of your daughter’s letters instead. They ease my pain and soothe my sorrow.”
     
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  2. Anjelin

    Anjelin Gold IL'ite

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    Beautiful Story!!
     
  3. sreeram

    sreeram IL Hall of Fame

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    Very nice and different story. Very well narrated. All the best.
     
  4. leenarajaryan

    leenarajaryan Silver IL'ite

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    Just mindblowing story.. You are really a creativemind...
     

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