24th Aug, 2010
Dear Selden,
Feels like ages have gone since I last sat down to write this letter to you, but something terrible happened and I had to take a break from writing the letters.I don't want to burden you with the details of the tragedy that struck me but these past few days I thought of you more than ever. I wanted to put my head on your lap and cry my tears dry, hoping you would take me in your arms to asssure me that life is a melting pot of all such tragedies and achievements. I wanted your soothing words to calm my senses. I know when you hear this your heart will cry and you will want to rip yourself apart for not being near me in my terrible times. But its ok dear, I know if you ever hear of my grief, you'll just leave everything that holds you to just reach near me and hold my hands.
Holding hands! Ah! don't I know the ecstacy of the warmth of your soft hands? Many a times during our school time, I would dream of holding those soft hands forever and sometimes the perfume of those hands would linger even when I actually got up from my dream. I can never forget the time that dream actually came true. It was lunch time, do you remember? So unsure of my steps, I jostled with nervousness to dare to lift my hands to hold yours. It took a mighty energy to take that step and when I actually took those hands in mine, my god! now I understand what people mean by heavenly feeling! Wow! still now I can feel that softness! After I went back, I looked at my hands with admiration as if they had performed world's greatest feat. I didn't wash my hands that entire day. Given the choice I would have wanted to keep my hands unwashed forever but I got the sniggering glances from my friends who guessed my plight after witnessing my rendezvous with my hands long into the dead of the night. So the next morning I had to sadly wash my hands, but I tell you the scent remained and even now I can actually get the whiff of that scent.
Enough of my hands now, I can almost hear you say, so dear madam, let me rest my story about your hands for now.
I'll get back to you later,
Wangyel
Dear Selden,
Feels like ages have gone since I last sat down to write this letter to you, but something terrible happened and I had to take a break from writing the letters.I don't want to burden you with the details of the tragedy that struck me but these past few days I thought of you more than ever. I wanted to put my head on your lap and cry my tears dry, hoping you would take me in your arms to asssure me that life is a melting pot of all such tragedies and achievements. I wanted your soothing words to calm my senses. I know when you hear this your heart will cry and you will want to rip yourself apart for not being near me in my terrible times. But its ok dear, I know if you ever hear of my grief, you'll just leave everything that holds you to just reach near me and hold my hands.
Holding hands! Ah! don't I know the ecstacy of the warmth of your soft hands? Many a times during our school time, I would dream of holding those soft hands forever and sometimes the perfume of those hands would linger even when I actually got up from my dream. I can never forget the time that dream actually came true. It was lunch time, do you remember? So unsure of my steps, I jostled with nervousness to dare to lift my hands to hold yours. It took a mighty energy to take that step and when I actually took those hands in mine, my god! now I understand what people mean by heavenly feeling! Wow! still now I can feel that softness! After I went back, I looked at my hands with admiration as if they had performed world's greatest feat. I didn't wash my hands that entire day. Given the choice I would have wanted to keep my hands unwashed forever but I got the sniggering glances from my friends who guessed my plight after witnessing my rendezvous with my hands long into the dead of the night. So the next morning I had to sadly wash my hands, but I tell you the scent remained and even now I can actually get the whiff of that scent.
Enough of my hands now, I can almost hear you say, so dear madam, let me rest my story about your hands for now.
I'll get back to you later,
Wangyel
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