OF INK AND INTIMACY

In the age of WhatsApp and emojis, forgotten letters induce a pang in the heart

- 

The other day, my partner Bishan showed me a letter his mother had found.

It was addressed to him, from his father, written in Bengali, just a few sentences long, each sentence in an ink of different colour. Bishan must have been a little boy at the time and didn't remember getting it. There was nothing of great importance in it. Just a father writing to say he would be home soon and promising to bring colour pencils. Long before our emoji-studded WhatsApp messages, he had filled the letter with little sketches -a drawing of the train that would bring him home, a smiley face to say he was well, and flowers.

Bishan's father had passed away in March. The funeral rituals were done, the ashes immersed, even the one-month memorial was over. But that long-lost handwritten note made my heart ache. It was a reminder of loss. But of love as well. They are, it turns out, two sides of the same sheet of paper.

Portrait from an unsent letter