A Treasured Valentine’s Week

That was the mid-February of year 1996, the month of a shoulder season in Pune. The winter was diminishing and summer was taking baby steps. The intoxicating aroma of mango blossom and jasmine had started wafting on the air.

I was studying engineering. My younger brother Yogendra (all his near ones call him Yoga) was a youth of sixteen. My elder cousin sister Nayana, who was studying medicine had come to our place on vacation.

As Valentine’s day was nearing, I was longing for some letter from my beloved, though each casual letter otherwise was also a special one in our long-distance relationship. My parents knew about my love story since it started and Yoga came to know about it little later due to my exchange of letters with my beloved.

A middle-aged postman whom I called Datta uncle, used to deliver letters in our area. Whenever I crossed path with Datta uncle, I used to stop and collect my personal incoming letters from him before they landed up in Yoga’s hands. The reason was obvious: on getting hold of my letters, he often used to make me run after him from one room to other while teasing and return them only on bargaining something in exchange such as my best piece of stationery. His behavior used to agitateย me at times but then my life would have been very boring if he were not so playful! ๐Ÿ˜€

I tried to call my beloved on Valentine’s day but my calls went dematerialized. He had not called either. We couldn’t communicate, which was quite upsetting. The history repeated on the following two days. I used to attend college, do all my due submissions and practicals, study, and come back home by evening. He used to be on my mind as usual.

On the evening of 17th February after spending a usual college day, I returned home. I was tired like anything. As soon as I headed for the jasmine plants in the backyard to get some fresh scent, Nayana and the granny gathered around me. Nayana handed over to me five large beautiful cards and they both couldn’t hold the curiosity flowing to the rims of their eyes. ๐Ÿ˜€ My waiting had come to an end finally! I felt like I had met him in person. ๐Ÿ™‚ My granny enquired about the card sender’s details keenly and Nayana listened to my answers with twinkling eyes.

They say if you tell a secret to a woman, it no longer remains a secret. And I had to tell my secret to two women! ๐Ÿ˜€ I told them everything as it was and of course it did not remain a secret then.

On the same evening, Arun called me on phone. Then I came to know that he had posted those five cards to me in such an order that I could receive one card each day so that we both celebrate a Valentine’s week rather than a Valentine’s day. ๐Ÿ™‚ But most probably, the postal service didn’t operate daily from MP to Maharashtra then and that is why I had received five cards on the same day just a little after Valentine’s day. Receiving a bundle of cards from my Valentine was a feeling no lesser than winning a lottery. ๐Ÿ˜€

All of us have some everlasting memories. The time changes so does our belief system but those memories don’t fade. Today, when enough number of years have passed to be able to look back, I think we don’t require any specific day to express our love. Now each day of togetherness is a Valentine’s day for both of us. But yes, that planned Valentine’s week I have treasured in my stash forever. ๐Ÿ™‚

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A Love Story a Magic Pen Started

It was not exactly the Valentine’s Day but a few months before it during year 1994 when their love story started. It was also not long when they both met and started knowing each other. They had met just a couple of times.

That day, he was about to go to a remote place. Since they were not going see each other for long time, he had come to see her in person before boarding the train, which was scheduled in the following couple of hours.

He presented a small gift to her, as a token of his remembrance.

She uncovered it carefully and found a beautiful black pen with an intricate print on it. Her eyes twinkled with happiness. ๐Ÿ™‚

He: “How do you find it?” ๐Ÿ™‚

She: “It’s beautiful!…Thank you!” ๐Ÿ™‚

He: “You know, it is not a simple pen. It is a magic pen.” ๐Ÿ˜‰

She was surprised and confused at the same time to hear what he said.

She had never believed anything since her childhood without knowing the whats, the whys, and the hows.ย But she believed in what he said just as she believed in him completely. If he says, then it must be surely magical…But what is the magic? She couldn’t hold her curiosity about the pen’s magic for long. He observed her funny expressions.

He (playfully): “Whenever you write a letter to me with this pen, it would automatically reach me.”ย ๐Ÿ˜€

She (curiously): “That’s just not possible!!” ๐Ÿ˜ฎ

He (smiling): “Why not?… But yes, you need to do one more thing to make this pen’s magic work.”

She (anxiously): “And that is…?”

He: “Each time you write a letter with this pen, you need to write my address on the letter too, and put it into a nearby post box.”ย  ๐Ÿ˜‰ ๐Ÿ˜€

She understood the magic. ๐Ÿ™‚ She liked the way he indicated his interest to know her more. He wanted to understand her and take their brief introduction with each other to a next level. She remembered, she had got some freshly plucked jasmine flowers. She put them into his shirt’s pocket. She promised him to write letters. After spending some silent moments together, they took each other’s leave with heavy hearts.

Those were the no-cellphone days. It was not easy to speak to a remotely located person. If they did not have STD/ISD facility on their landline telephones, they used to stand in the queues of STD/ISD booths to make a long distance call. During those days, writing letters was a reliable way to stayย connected.

The pen was one of her most precious possessions. During their separation times, she wrote numerous letters with that pen and sent to him from miles away.ย The pen went on playing its magic and wiped out the physical distance between the two hearts in love.

I still fondly possess my magic pen. ๐Ÿ˜€

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