Skip to main content

Letter Art

Growing up, I exchanged letters with a group of six or seven people. Two cousins, a grandmother, a best friend who had moved to another city, a school teacher who had to return to Bombay to take care of her ailing parents. Besides the regulars, there were some who came and went of my life leaving behind between two to a couple of dozen letters in their wake.

Browsing through the Envelope Collective gallery, brought back memories of the art work on some of these envelopes, the interesting placement of stamps, the stationery and even the colorful inks that these letters were written in. Sometimes there would be a friendship braid, photographs, a piece of candy or dried flowers and leaves inside. It was exciting to get something in an ordinary envelope that was not a letter - it did not matter what it was.

The letters were written in flowing cursive which all of us seemed to be good with, the borders were decorated with art work. The closer you were to the recipient the more you put of yourself into the letter and that often went beyond the note itself.

I have all those old letters stored in large manila envelopes. The impulse to store and put them away for posterity came when I first realized that I neither wrote or received any letters - over time, the numbers had trickled down , the circle shrunk from seven to two and then there was nothing left.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Hi Heartcrossings,

You won't beleive it, I have all my letters stored too, its been years since I actually took a pen and paper out to write a letter. I loved the anticapation of receiving the letters, back then I knew how many days it takes for a letter to reach different destinations.

Popular posts from this blog

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t...

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques...

Changing Pace

This blog has been a big part of my life for the last five years. Besides giving me the opportunity to connect with a number of interesting people and share my thoughts and ideas with them, it has been a form of daily meditation for me. No matter what the day threw my way, I made a very deliberate effort to find a little quiet time to write.The process of thinking about what to write and then the act of writing itself worked as an antidote to aggravations big and small. Five and half years ago, when I started Heartcrossings both my personal and professional lives left a lot to be desired for. The only real happiness I had was in being J's mother. While that was often enough to make me forget what I did not have, I sorely needed a third place to call my own and shape in the likeness of my dreams. This blog has been where there were no limits or constraints and that was absolutely exhilarating - it is the reason I have been able to nurture it for as long and as much as I have. A lot ...