THE SAD DEMISE OF LETTERS

Which were once found,
to be tucked in a breast pocket
or deftly folded underneath
the pages of a book unread
or secured under a flower vase
placed by the corner of a table;
are now being saved in
a drafts folder to be sent.

Which were once preserved,
in a special place for them
to be served, often,
in remembrance of a person held dear;
in regrets, in love—they were sodden
in declarations, in apologies, affirmed;
stacked,
in the event of being left unopened,
after receipt from a mailbox or the person who hand-delivered.

With alphabets formed,
in cursive loops neatly trimmed;
wherein the finality to determine
the intention of the writer stays,
in pages folded in squares
with lines left by the
reader absent-mindedly,
after being opened,
read and further unread.

Where transmission is quicker
than a handwritten note or a letter,
has caused the wait,
anticipation to no longer suffer;
even, the excitement of receiving
a letter no longer occurs;
it has abated,
in the age of
messages and e-mails.

Where with a click,
a message now sent
is instantly delivered,
and, so, is the desire to
wait, write or reply;
has left us to part,
leading to their sad demise
that once came in a box
or a pile of treasured notes and letters,
which evinced longing, hope or a desire.

– Shweta Kher