writing a letter always seems so real, so life-like force and so fulfilling. writing a letter after a long time, i realise how much i missed writing letters. i wrote. i loved the way it flowed and spilled over. the recipients were my students. well, the contents were mundane, here and there stuff but then, it had the imprint of the mind in ink and paper. words are magical especially when one knows that letters will be preserved, visited over and over and read and reread. it will always contain a part of me that was at that precise moment. in a way, the recipient partakes of what i had been when i wrote that letter. even years after, i will stand frozen in my letters and remain the person i used to be when the ink was spread on the blank paper at that time. i write because i like to write. i write because it preserves a part of me. i write because i know you will reply and not complain, 'i have no time for writing'. you will partake of me as you read my letter and then you will go back to it when you think of me. well, i might have changed from the person in the letter but my joy of writing a letter has not diminished.
await my reply as I await yours.
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