19, Tilak Dwar,
Mathura.
July 9, 2010
My dear Naresh,
There is no reason why I should write this letter to you just now. Only a week ago, I wrote to you and have not yet received any reply. But, dear friend, I cannot help it. My heart is too full, and I must tell you all.
A few days back, I was at Anantpur. It was here that I spent six happy years of my boyhood with my grandmother. The small town of the Kangra Valley knew me as a restless, quarrelsome, God forsaken little devil. My grandmother was put to so much trouble in keeping me within bounds. But she loved me dearly, and she loves me dearly still.
Something happened. I cannot exactly describe it. You know family quarrels are dangerous things. There was quarrel and my parents took me away from Anantpur. Today, I appear to be just city-bred, stylish young collegian, perhaps too strong for many of my class-fellows. But I have always been pining for Anantpur in the silence of my heart. I know you would understand me. You have that sympathy which always made me feel at home in your company though you are older and wiser than me.
I longed for my grandmother. In those days when I was her little ward, I did not much care for her, at least I did not want to show it to any one how much I cared. After seven long years, with the old quarrel forgotten, and some of the parties dead, I went to Anantpur to see my grandmother.
There she was, little more bent then before, the eyes dimmer and some new wrinkles on her face! The dear sweet face! I wept, I could not check my tears. The old house on a hill top, the orchards, the little river down in the valley, the white road going across the hills, the school where I enjoyed and suffered much, but above everything, the same soft cool hand caressing me. How could I stay away from her all these years? - she asked. In reply, I looked down and shed tears of penitence.
She has not forgotten all my pretty likes and dislikes. She remembers my favourite dishes even. Going to her was like going back to my boyhood. Of wonder and hope. Would you believe it, for some time I forget then, I was a young man of seventeen and that I had seen and known the big busy world outside the rim of hills around Anantpur! I was just a boy of ten being petted by my grandmother.
After a few days stay, I had to tear myself away. But I have formed a resolution. After my examination, I shall go back to her, and will not come back if she does not come with me.
Forgive me if I have troubled you with my sorrows.
Yours affectionately,
XYZ
Mathura.
July 9, 2010
My dear Naresh,
There is no reason why I should write this letter to you just now. Only a week ago, I wrote to you and have not yet received any reply. But, dear friend, I cannot help it. My heart is too full, and I must tell you all.
A few days back, I was at Anantpur. It was here that I spent six happy years of my boyhood with my grandmother. The small town of the Kangra Valley knew me as a restless, quarrelsome, God forsaken little devil. My grandmother was put to so much trouble in keeping me within bounds. But she loved me dearly, and she loves me dearly still.
Something happened. I cannot exactly describe it. You know family quarrels are dangerous things. There was quarrel and my parents took me away from Anantpur. Today, I appear to be just city-bred, stylish young collegian, perhaps too strong for many of my class-fellows. But I have always been pining for Anantpur in the silence of my heart. I know you would understand me. You have that sympathy which always made me feel at home in your company though you are older and wiser than me.
I longed for my grandmother. In those days when I was her little ward, I did not much care for her, at least I did not want to show it to any one how much I cared. After seven long years, with the old quarrel forgotten, and some of the parties dead, I went to Anantpur to see my grandmother.
There she was, little more bent then before, the eyes dimmer and some new wrinkles on her face! The dear sweet face! I wept, I could not check my tears. The old house on a hill top, the orchards, the little river down in the valley, the white road going across the hills, the school where I enjoyed and suffered much, but above everything, the same soft cool hand caressing me. How could I stay away from her all these years? - she asked. In reply, I looked down and shed tears of penitence.
She has not forgotten all my pretty likes and dislikes. She remembers my favourite dishes even. Going to her was like going back to my boyhood. Of wonder and hope. Would you believe it, for some time I forget then, I was a young man of seventeen and that I had seen and known the big busy world outside the rim of hills around Anantpur! I was just a boy of ten being petted by my grandmother.
After a few days stay, I had to tear myself away. But I have formed a resolution. After my examination, I shall go back to her, and will not come back if she does not come with me.
Forgive me if I have troubled you with my sorrows.
Yours affectionately,
XYZ
No comments:
Post a Comment