Today I saw my father clearing his rack of files, important documents and rest of the bills and other stuff. Among such objects that he was busy clearing, he held a bunch of few letters. I asked him if i could read them.he hesitated, I insisted.he gave me those letters.partly dusted,rugged stamped .filled with nostalgia and memories.
But these letter are merely more than a a nostalgia , they are a past gone by.every element of these hand-written letters dictates the intentions of the writer, his aspirations his urge to write to other person he intend.
the crumples and the incompleteness of the written format rules the over neat and well formatted informal letter.
The rugged nature of the paper for the preserved letter, implies to its value that my father holds. How often does our chat on the watsapp or rather Facebook were a medium of admiration and kept close with us.none.
but these letters still exist, a timeless nature of the medium.
