Pen Friend

Some days are boring. Some lectures in college are more boring. Pursuing literature was completely my choice, yet, I don't think I will ever stand this philosophy class. To prevent yawning, I let my mind wander outside, amidst the meadows, branches, and chirping of sparrows. I drifted in the notions of that stranger, who leaves a page full of his musings, his melancholy, inclinations everything, every day in my favorite book. Whom I know everything about and then I don't know him at all.

Professor's screams and yells and comments of those backbenchers faded gradually as I sank deeper into my thoughts. I remembered losing my book and dad declared clearly that he won't buy me one because I needed to learn how to not be careless. I couldn't argue and went to the library the day next to note down the things I had lost. 'The Road Not Taken' by Robert Frost, I started with it. As I opened the book, something fell on my lap. A square piece of paper with truckloads of scribbles. I didn't know who had left it. I thought it must be notes or something. But it was something bizarre, totally different.

"Yes, I wish to take that road someday.

Someday when I can discover who I really am

Instead of hiding in my voids

Or pretending someone I am not

Someday I will be me and only me!"

An unnamed and anonymous letter hiding in the fold of Robert Frost's poem. For a sub-second, I was too happy to realize that in the days where science people are considered blue-blooded people, there was someone who loved Frost and Keats as much as I did. And suddenly a sense of sorrow, how much lone a person has to be to express what he feels like this? For the first time in my life, I started understanding introverts and promised myself never to taunt them again. I kept the letter aside and resumed my work. I almost left when something forced me to sit back. I took out the letter and wrote something below it which I was not even sure made any sense.

"Dear someone who wants to take some road

We all have that road that connects to our backyard

It's gloomy, it's unseen and forced by others not to walk on it

But it's us who has to take that one step on that road

Even if it ends in a labyrinth

We have to solve it and walk till it ends

People don't care now

They won't care then!

P.s. I have no idea if it's okay to reply. But I know what it feels like to be stuck. May the forces be with you. I can tell you my name only if you tell yours in the next."

I left it there with Frost and kept the book on the shelf.

I forgot all of it the next day until my BFF mentioned the name 'library'. "Ohh, God. The letter guy! How did I forget!" I didn't realize that I had said that loud.

"Letter guy? Oookay!" My friend made a mischievous face. I punched hard in her arm and rushed towards the library. I opened the book and found a page. Ohh yes, the human did reply.

"Well yes, you are right perhaps. In my entire life till now, all I have done is read textbooks and get above-average marks, and doing something that would save me from the taunts about who else is doing better than me. In short, I am still walking on this unwanted road. I don't know if I should return or keep on walking till I get to a junction. Anyways, myself Ark."

I got a feeling which was hard to explain. In the digital age, I have heard people being friends with not-so-known people on FB, Insta, Twitter, even Tinder, but letters? Perhaps God has made me for out of the box experiences only I guess.

I sat down and started writing, "Ark, you know what does that means in Hindi? The aroma of green grass and wet leaves during dawn just before the sunrise. Trust me, that's the most beautiful feeling and the most serene thing in the universe. You won't get it when the morning gets bright. So what if you are not shining like the sun now? You are still rare and precious in all ways!

By the way, I am Roshni."

And that's how it all had started. I was not sure if I exactly liked him. But I did find solace in his words. The waiting kept me charged. Mom said she had never seen me so vibrant before. I don't remember if I was blushing but it was true. Before I could recall any more of my bygone, the bell rang and everyone rushed out of the classroom. And I, as usual, ran towards my latest favorite place, the library.

"It all started with the roads we never took or we refused to take. Do you think we are all together on different roads now?"

True it was. I never thought that I would someday walk on a road where there will be one more person to think about. "I don't know. Either we are going with the flow or still confused about where exactly to go. But I think the worst thing is to get stuck in one place and not moving forward. Wherever we are, we can make sure that we ain't idle with our lives."

Days went like this. Exchanging letters and replies. An urge did once rise that I should try searching this guy on social media or from the college admin. But I got insecure. I might lose the trust and friendship and my pen friend.

One day, though, after my routine letter writing session, I kept the letter in the book and while I was putting it back on the shelf, I heard a voice, "Roshni!"

A tall guy with a little long hair, a husky tone, and eyes... something was floating in those two twinkling eyes, a thousand tales and notions known. The silence lasted forever. We kept on gazing at each other, with the book in my hand. His gaze shifted from me to the book in my hand and suddenly a chord struck core, and I whispered "Ark!"

He smiled like he was waiting for me. Like we had known each other forever. As I said, we knew everything and then nothing.

"Hi, Roshni! I wanted to see you. So badly. I had missed many things in my life. But not this time."

My words seemed lost in transition. Nothing came out. I still kept sailing in his eyes. I finally said, "Does that mean, no more letters?" I didn't know if I wanted this to be a dream. Or if I will miss my letters.

He took the book from my hand and took out the letter. Started reading,

"Who knew writing would turn out to be addiction someday? A thread joining two similar hearts and minds? Bringing us to the same place? I can hear faint voices while reading between the lines. It's melodious sometimes and sometimes deep and grave."

He laughed. I smiled. And then said, "My voice is definitely not so deep. But your words are. You did change me. Yes, they are addictive. And I wanna stay in this addiction. Will you stay with me?"

I didn't answer anything. We both knew the answer. That's where our roads met, and we are still walking the same way!