This one is a special one. Not the special, special one. But the overwhelmingly beautiful and heart-warming happiness filled, special one.
Remember my Pen Friend? Don't? Go ahead and read, "To meet a Pen Friend", in my archives to get the core of this better. :)
It was a sunny, winter noon, mind juggling between the events that lead to grotesque changes, the natural(almost man-induced) calamities that my neighbor state was facing, the lives lost, the intensity of the situation, the freshly brewed tragic thoughts, the ambitiously woven future agendas, and the flickering thought of an exam 38 hours later. All this shattered to the sound a doorbell.
What do I find next? A wonderfully packed mail post. Yes, this brave one, made it safe into my hands, among the many others that are lost. "Sorry for the delay.", big, black, bold sentence attracts my attention.
Mind rambling and curiosity. A birthday present, precisely.
What happened for the next 20 mins is what has lead me to writing this post, which invariably implies, it had to be mind-numbing BEAUTIFUL. Well, that's my Pen Friend, a passionate lover of art. And how could her creation be anything, less passionate?
18 beautiful letters, encapsulated in hand-made purple envelopes, some in a baby's cheek blushed pink,some in a milk-creme peach, others in a tree-bark brown, numbered at the top right corner form one-two-three-four....-eighteen.
Eighteen envelopes.
Waiting to be read.
Craving to be admired.
Wanting to be loved.
But just as anything in the world comes with a condition, I turn the envelope to see a message, engraved in beautiful handwriting, few in blue, few in black, and a few others, proudly presenting themselves in Calligraphy.
To be opened,
When you need a smile.
TO be opened,
When you are lost.
So on and so forth until the 18th one.
The first one did say, To be opened, when it's your birthday. Birthday was long gone, but the happiness, sprang right back the moment I read the letter.
Undoubtedly, mystery and surprises shoot up to the top of the priority list. Respecting those magical words, I tucked in the letters, to be opened as when the situation on it calls for it. When I needed it the most. :)
And all this, from a person I have met twice:one who synced just right with my thoughts, my ideas and outlook towards everything from a leaf hopping in the atmosphere to landing softly into the warm hands of a child to the political tension miles away. Indeed, nobody can ever love someone the way an artist can. They find magic among the notes of your hair, on your gloomiest of days. Thank you, Pen Friend.
The Icing on the cake? Arabic Coffee, hidden in a packet.
Writing, letters, surprises, coffee, smile.
A proud check on each of them. :)
After receiving Sylvia Plath's journal as a birthday gift, I wondered if I would be happy with that kind of magnitude, and here is yet another beautiful moment that is a highlight of an wonder-filled year, 2015.
Love, art and passion to you.
Thank you, Pen Friend.
Thank you, 2015.
Thank you, Universe! :)
Remember my Pen Friend? Don't? Go ahead and read, "To meet a Pen Friend", in my archives to get the core of this better. :)
It was a sunny, winter noon, mind juggling between the events that lead to grotesque changes, the natural(almost man-induced) calamities that my neighbor state was facing, the lives lost, the intensity of the situation, the freshly brewed tragic thoughts, the ambitiously woven future agendas, and the flickering thought of an exam 38 hours later. All this shattered to the sound a doorbell.
What do I find next? A wonderfully packed mail post. Yes, this brave one, made it safe into my hands, among the many others that are lost. "Sorry for the delay.", big, black, bold sentence attracts my attention.
Mind rambling and curiosity. A birthday present, precisely.
What happened for the next 20 mins is what has lead me to writing this post, which invariably implies, it had to be mind-numbing BEAUTIFUL. Well, that's my Pen Friend, a passionate lover of art. And how could her creation be anything, less passionate?
18 beautiful letters, encapsulated in hand-made purple envelopes, some in a baby's cheek blushed pink,some in a milk-creme peach, others in a tree-bark brown, numbered at the top right corner form one-two-three-four....-eighteen.
Eighteen envelopes.
Waiting to be read.
Craving to be admired.
Wanting to be loved.
But just as anything in the world comes with a condition, I turn the envelope to see a message, engraved in beautiful handwriting, few in blue, few in black, and a few others, proudly presenting themselves in Calligraphy.
To be opened,
When you need a smile.
When you are lost.
So on and so forth until the 18th one.
The first one did say, To be opened, when it's your birthday. Birthday was long gone, but the happiness, sprang right back the moment I read the letter.
Undoubtedly, mystery and surprises shoot up to the top of the priority list. Respecting those magical words, I tucked in the letters, to be opened as when the situation on it calls for it. When I needed it the most. :)
And all this, from a person I have met twice:one who synced just right with my thoughts, my ideas and outlook towards everything from a leaf hopping in the atmosphere to landing softly into the warm hands of a child to the political tension miles away. Indeed, nobody can ever love someone the way an artist can. They find magic among the notes of your hair, on your gloomiest of days. Thank you, Pen Friend.
The Icing on the cake? Arabic Coffee, hidden in a packet.
Writing, letters, surprises, coffee, smile.
A proud check on each of them. :)
After receiving Sylvia Plath's journal as a birthday gift, I wondered if I would be happy with that kind of magnitude, and here is yet another beautiful moment that is a highlight of an wonder-filled year, 2015.
Love, art and passion to you.
Thank you, Pen Friend.
Thank you, 2015.
Thank you, Universe! :)