Writing a Letter

I don't think I was taught how to write a letter. I don't think you can teach anyone how to write a letter. Well, official letters you can. There are scores of web sites (for a price of course) that teach you how to write letters to your bosses asking for jobs or chucking one. They teach you how to put forth your case in the correct light: highlighting the strengths while distracting from the weaknesses.

Thats all very nice and doable. But when it comes to writing letters that express an informal emotion, I don't think there are many websites that teach you how to do it. Because emotions are personal and come in infinite hues. And to make things more vague and difficult, expressing these emotions is an altogether different task. Some people express better than others while some find it hard to pen the next word after 'Dear'.

Early on I never believed that such a class existed. I always branded them as lazy, indolent and slothful and to some extent with a bloated ego. You can fight yourself hoarse explaining to them why replying to a mail wasn't so difficult, but they would never get to do it. With time I understand that their ever-repeated phrase of "..but what should I write...?" is justified. Because the words or expressions really don't sweep into their heads as they do for some of us.

My mother wrote letters to all of us after we left home on our own voyages. She covered inland mails and aerogrammes to their brink. Sometimes I thought if the postal department ever weighed her letters they would find her above the legal limit! She wrote on the inside and on the edges (that tore off with the glue when we tried to open them). She even wrote on the outside--thoughts that came to her while she was writing the 'from' address at the back and licking the lapels. Sometimes my father would point out to her that "writing on the outside is not permitted" was very much printed on the stationary. But she never listened to him and her letter's recipients were all the more happy to be the inheritors of extra information. Sometimes she would write stories, sometimes quote poetry, sometimes have a prayer. Sometimes the smear of the turmeric powder on the paper would tell me that she had come in from the kitchen and had not wiped her hands well enough before she sat down to write. And sometimes some words that were washed off would signify her tears. Every package of food or gift that came from her always had a secret small letter hidden amidst its folds that spoke volumes of how much she thought about us. Even today she writes not just to her children but to everyone that cares to communicate with her. Every letter from her is like a story that has an introduction, a body and a concluding remark.

Maybe she got the knack from her father. My maternal grandfather sent postcards with 50 lines written on it in chaste Oriya. Beautiful handwriting and beautiful expressions for every occasion. May be my mother inherited it from him.

My father is a writer so his letters are always like great messages or inscriptions. Sometimes tacit and sometimes voluble but always firm and unwavering like a short story.

As for me, I always love to write letters and do not believe in procrastinating a reply. Very often I get carried away with my own writings and digress from the point and don't mind if it gets lengthy (just as I don't mind reading a lengthy mail!). Like my mother I write to anyone that cares to communicate with me.

There is nothing more pleasurable than opening a letter and reading it. And reading it a hundred times over. I am sure those that know how to write and those that do not, enjoy reading this beautiful form of emotional expression. I pity those that do not reply.