Dear Toto,

Letters to one you love.


“Love can’t be repented, neither forgotten nor rejected. The illusion of forgetting is for the mind to lie & always rejected by heart. Never can we find a perfect world, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Living in delusion of strongest memories is the world we chase in real. Lest we forget, it is right there, within us”

Dear Toto,

As the smoke fades off the burnt ash in the wake of this cold night, I can’t help to think of you. How have u been? It seems a lifetime since I wrote my heart out. More than that, whom should I write my heart out to?  Seems i lost track of those countless thoughts which mummer in my head everyday. 

Indeed it’s been long since I have seen u last, I still feel those cold chills down my spine. I still feel so much was left to say, so much I wanted to say but never could. The smell of your perfume still makes me so nostalgic. That sunset still seems to wrap the dusk of crimson all over my memories. What went wrong between us? Why did we walk off like strangers when we were the only two people who seemed fimiliar in a throng of million. 

A year which seemed to never end, the voices which seem to never fade. The texts seem to never reach, calls! Ugh! I wish I could find words to calm the nostalgia in me. I always thought but didn’t have the courage to try. 

Yeah! It’s true, every morning I wake up with a dying fragile hope to believe maybe , somehow I have a text from you. Yeah! I still try to see your picture at least once a day. You know, the other day a friend said , “Love can’t be repented, neither forgotten nor rejected. The illusion of forgetting is for the mind to lie & always rejected by heart. Never can we find a perfect world, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist”.

I heard him, I heard him well. All I did was remain silent. I wish I could have contradicted him, but within me I just knew the truth. So I didn’t.

I hope you have found your soulmate already, I hope he makes u smile. All I can believe is that somewhere I live in you just like the shadow in the dark. I hope you sometimes you think of me. Well that wouldn’t make it a perfect world for me, but it shall at least make this world a little better. 

Do u still click pictures? Do you still laugh with that growling noise? Do you still wear those faded red threads on your wrist ? I hope you still dance in the car while driving. Do you still keep your bag on the backseat ? Does it still have your fav perfume ? 

I hope you are still the same because I changed, I changed a lot. I still don’t know how to sing but now i don’t even try. I guess it’s been a lifetime since I found myself good looking . I still call a “Helmet” , a “Hemlet” …… the only difference is no one corrects me now. That changes everything in me.

I miss you!





Dear Kim Shui….

“He stood there every cold evening , waiting to be looked upon by the eyes which once searched for him. He gazed at the foggy window panes to catch a glimpse of that shadow. The world went past him speeding away from the snow, he stood there waiting for the spring to come back again.”

Dear Kim Shui,


konnichiwa!!! I hope you are well. It took me months to gather my words together & put them on this piece of paper. It seems as if the sky overhead seems like a small canvas to tell you all I have in me. I know you must be busy thinking am I fine or not, I feel you shall be glad to find my letter.

It’s cold here, the crimson sunsets have started to rust the clouds & every night I hear the clouds rumbling in rage. I hope you must have by now learnt to fight your fear of thundering, I guess you must be a brave girl by now. I went to the kamzi street again, I sat on that bench a drew you on every sight of my imagination. I feel better now. Somehow it calms my mind. OYAJI seems tensed for me these days but I am trying my best to make him understand that I am fine. 
Do you remember the brown painted kitchen window of your house where I caught a glimpse of you the first time? Haha , I still remember the flour all over your nose. Do you still hold that daffodil close to you which I gave you the first day we went for dinner, & that restaurant on the Osaka street? it still serves the best rice cakes in town. The movies at winchans? Our crazy laughs at the “Ken Shimara’s “show, the yellow umbrella, the latte’s at the box cafe? I hope you remember the joy we lived.

I remember everything Shui, all I can’t remember is saying goodbye. I know I just couldn’t say that to you & everyday of my life I have thought of that moment seeking refuge under the flakes of falling snow. I feel alone here Shui, the wait doesn’t seem to end. I don’t like rice cakes anymore, I don’t remember when was the last time I ran in the snow, matching footprints like we used to do. I feel tired walking and always keep my hands uptight hoping that you’ll hold it Someday. I calm my demons thinking of you in my days of despair, the elegance of that calm face strikes a solace within me. I feel content yet incomplete, I feel hopeful yet doomed. The awe of your being holds me intact but somewhere I still feel fragile & broken. I stop by the lake everyday trying to run away from the echoes in my head, but every night I go to bed with a thousand words screaming in me. Why Shui? Why? I still dial to you to hear you on your machine, countless messages no reply.

 Shui, you had promised that this spring shall be ours & we shall bask under the sun holding the warmth of togetherness seeping in our souls. It’s still months till spring and years till I see you again.

I miss you Shui. Come back ..!! I still wait for you..
Deliver to ,

Kim Shui

Nagasaki Graveyard,

106, Street 5,


Dear William Family…!

Dear William family,

Sometimes you hold a pen & think of writing your own story. I guess it’s time you hear about the serenity which walked through my days of life. I always wanted the generations to know, what a beautiful feeling it is to be able to love someone. 

While I was a young theatre enthusiast in France, the Broadway’s had a elite of it’s own. The work of Jean Vigo was at its prime & on a sunny afternoon of 1962, while I watched in fascination the art on that stage, a lady entered the silent auditorium full of deafening silent audience with a greased cloth bag up her shoulder..! What a aura she had! It felt like graceful joy draped in a long linen shirt. I loved the way she faded off the darkness with that gallance in her smile. I couldn’t stop myself from striking a silent conversation with her.

Kids sometimes while you talk to someone you already get a clue how that person is going to impact your life.everytime it’s almost undescribed but strongly felt. By the spring of 1963, we had weaved our own hideout from worries. She found peace in me & I? I had already found my solace around her. The time just used to rush to dark & I used to love holding the brittle sun lights in her thoughts. 

Ha! My girl..!! She had a mystically pure soul just like the silk stretched upon the curtains of a dreamy house. A calmness which I searched yet never found. She made me fall in love with rains, the cold drops of joy which brought the child come alive in me, the fresh brewed coffee to go with the equisite blend of her words, the gallant smiles which lived in freedom from artificiality & above all she made me fall in love with her.
Children, believe me I never saw a prettier woman than that woman who used to run her finger over the cup of her coffee while she innocently sipped the soberness out of the dark latte’s. 

With the onset of summer, I married her. The joy of that summer morning still glares through my skinny cheeks as I think of her. Children, your grandma was the prettiest bride who walked the aisle holding onto her grace & hope. 

I vowed:

“I shall hold you in your joy & sorrows. In sickness & health. In worry & good. I shall be faithful to the promise of loving you all my life & growing old with you. I shall respect & protect you against all evil. Never shall I run over your desires for my ambitions & above all I would let the kid in you be alive all my life, till I die. Amen”

Kids! She held onto my belief & we just lived our life basking under the glory of each other all our lives. With flaws & without them, with worries sometimes & without them. I never felt alone till the fateful evening of 1979. That day when I saw her breath her last, I helplessly held onto her. She held your father right to her womb &I kissed him for eternity , silently holding my hand just like the day she held it on the alter & bid me goodbye. While I put her in my arms to lay her to rest, her closed eyes had a stare that ripped through my heart.After all we both vowed to be there for each other all our lives, but she didn’t keep her vow.

Your Grandma was an elegant lady & the love of my life. Your old man feels weak & alone after she left. The tunes of Beethoven still remind me of our first dance & the coffee seems so cold now. 

I might have probably died when you shall read this letter, but do remember kids, hold onto the love of your life because someday you ll have your own story to write. Just make sure it’s the best.

I love you Christina !!!

With love,

Greg William

15/A, Churchill lane, 

New Jersey

Dear Anamika….

He glared silently at the thoughtful face, chasing every frowned faded line of sigh. He stared at her face just a glance which became a memory forever. The silence between the eyes echoed in the thin air, deafening the noise of the world. He knew something had happened.

She just forced her eyes staring away as she tried to not show the obvious worry n her face.He just knew, “SHE FELT GUILTY”. He knew he was her guilt, so he just forced his feet to walk away never to fall in love again.

Dear Anamika,

 “Before God, we are all equally wise, and equally foolish”

Sometimes in life there comes a time when you can’t stand tall & look in the eyes of the one you love & ask her what had happened, as you clearly know the reason behind the irony.

It makes me wonder was our abstract love  right or was the tradition? Sometimes I ask myself can Lord be so dividing that he made me a son of a Dalit & you a daughter of a Brahmin. You know, Baba always used to tell me all these castes & creed are more of a hoax & we all are equal, I’ll go to him & ask him, why did he lie to me all my life?  Why didn’t he tell me that I don’t have the right to decide whom to love & peacefully spend my days with. You know they say I can’t even enter a temple, I guess if they are right then even God doesn’t want to be by my side , then how can I blame you, you’re just a human. 

They forget Nandanar who was rejected by the priests but accepted by the god. They forget “chokhamela”, the Dalit poet who made the world fall in love with his poetic verses. They overlook the “Raidas” Aka Ravidass whose teachings are a part of the holy “Guru Granth Sahib”. They look upto BR Ambedkar & The Mahatma Gandhi but never  believe  their enemity against casteism. I wish I could show them we are also humans &I we are just same like them.

The panchayat  has decided that I should leave the village, despite trying my best I couldn’t make it upto them. I hope you ll remember me in your best stories & read me in your poems.

I am sorry Anamika you have to feel ashamed of me, I am sorry that my caste makes you believe that you’re guilty of accepting someone who is rejected by the world. I am sorry for being born in a house which didn’t have a right to love or live. 

I can’t explain to you how does it feel when you know that you’re a mistake of someone’s life even if they are your wish come true. I’ll ask that Lord someday why did he make such a divide that every heart has to think before falling in love & every mind has to suffer while parting away. I’ll ask him let him decide whose Lord is he?  If theirs then which is my Lord & if mine whose theirs?

Goodbye. I hope who shall always be a proud Brahmin & I’ll always be a silent Dalit.

With love,

Arun Bhogta,

Rohtas, Bihar,


Dear She…

He scrolled down the texts on his phone to find that one text which soothes his heart. “I wish I could tell you what I feel”, a silent smile conquered his face as he lay on a messy bedsheets reading that line with countless emotions seeping within his heart. He closed his eyes & that heart within the gates of those engrossed feelings from the practicality  which tried to find its space through the crowded thoughts in his mind.


Dear She,

As I stand here near the half faded fence of this terrace, all I can think of is you. I wish I could show you through my eyes how beautiful does the moon look tonight. Though I find no breeze around but does that really matter?

I went through our conversations tonight & I felt so much than just an emotion in my heart. I felt even after saying so much all the time, we end up still being left with with so much more to say.  Well yeah! You were right sometimes we don’t need to have definitions for everything in life, but sometimes I always feel you shall always be that story of my life which I can’t ever complete.

Anyways, You know I finally try to sleep early these days. Somehow I feel calm n even try to sleep with my mouth closed these days. Some days  I ain’t able to reach out to you every once in a while, but I think of you all the time. “She” even my pjs are getting better I guess I am finally Cracking the right jokes. Don’t you dare laugh on it, I actually am!

We all have that one person to whom you feel like saying so much but end up saying nothing at all. Guess my words betray me sometimes when it matters the most, but I am working on it. Just be patient with me if you can. Be there to hear me when I stammer because I know I definetely would stammer someday. Just hear the thoughts as I may not be there always to tell you what you want to hear. Just be patient with me unfortunately I am just a human with thousand imperfections.


A friend in love.

New Delhi,