THE LETTER

culled image source

In Islamic history I learnt that when Prophet Sulaymaan(Solomon) wrote a letter to Bilqis, the Queen of  Saba' addressing the people of Yemen, it started with, “Verily it is from, Sulaymaan and verily it is in the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful.” ¹

Glory to God, people of ancient know how to make an entrance! It was short and precise and it got the job done. Brilliant they are these heroes of the past. A writer can only hope to be as great as their opening sentences. So that we too can write letters worthy of being read over and over again.

 I write letters all the time, to decline offers, to scold, to complain, to start a fight, to make dramatic proclamations. But never before a love letter.  If you are like me, a human of all feelings then you would know that there are times when words are inadequate. Because how do I write a letter, full of hope and longing, and secrets I can only whisper to the dark? Will the pen understand, to flow swiftly and guide me? Would the papyrus²  be thick enough to soak in tears that may fall? A love letter is a big deal, it is an official documentation of your thoughts and feelings, meant to be preserved over time, as proof that your heart once beat ³ for someone else. And then you decide, who is worthy to receive this monumental artifact? Who do I write to?

Do I write to the one I called Inti’s very own? Do I start by asking if he is taking care of those hands that mirrored mine and held them perfectly? How do I tell him that to this day only he has done right by me? How do I remind him of his promise that he made in a handwritten letter, saying his love would stand the test of time when it could not stand a few miles apart?

Perhaps I will write about the one I call my cosmic lover. The one that holds another word not quite like love. Writers we both are, but still haven’t come up with a word for what we are. Perhaps when the word comes, I will tell him about my dream of us sitting in a quiet coffee shop, facing one another because that is the only way I get to see him laugh humorously at my quirky jokes. That laugh, his laugh, unconfined and pure, my favorite song, the laugh of a true mad man. Making him laugh would be my way of showing gratitude for the sleep he sacrificed and the ears he lent me on my weakest night.

Maybe I will write to the one I call my baby. Who is now too tall to be called so. But this one, he is a delicate drama queen so I have to choose the words carefully. Words don’t seem to convince him so how do I put down what is in my heart for him to understand what he means to me? Maybe on the date I promised him, I will tell him then what it meant to me when his innocent DM came to me. At a time I didn’t even know I needed his sweet smile. His cheeky attitude and sheer confidence have found shelter in my heart and I will never ask for rent.

Maybe I will write to one whose love I can’t attain. I will find a way to tell him how breathing became impossible when I knew he couldn’t be mine. Maybe I will ask in a tactful way, if I had shown how much I truly loved you, would it have made a difference? But I fear the answer so I will keep this one to myself.

I might just write to the one I call my best man. He hasn’t been around much I may ask him why? Has he found another lady friend that fits the parts my crazy self cannot? Alas, it is a love letter so I will not complain. I will simply tell him that despite all those times he let me down, I still think of him first when the good or the bad strikes.

I really want to write to the one who calls himself swordsman. I was discouraged because one of the voices asked, ‘for what?’ I thought and I replied. For the pleasant surprise I found him to be. For the comfort and the peace his gentle presence radiates. For the mark he left on me, I know I can’t replace. But he feared the magnitude of my feelings and so he ran the other way. I would love to chase him with a letter just so he could see how much I did feel for him, but the same voice told me we don’t run after love. It finds us.

BUT! I don’t know how to write these letters and how to send them. So instead I will write to the one who is not here yet. The one I will call the love of my life. The one who will stay and never turn away. I will tell him that in the time he took to come to me, I found a home in myself and I am no longer afraid to be alone. But since he insists I will let him have a room in my heart and with time I might be his home too. I will tell him, you don’t need to hold my hand or call me beautiful. You don’t need to accept my flaws or listen to my stories. And because he is the right one, he will say, "Verily it is by the will of God, Most High, that I have come to you. I have nothing to offer you but if you let me I will use this spark we have to light a fire, that will keep us warm now and maybe forever."

1. Extracted from Chapter Naml Verse 30 & 31. 
2. Papyrus is a material similar to thick paper that was used in ancient times as a writing surface.
3. OMG the past tense and past participle of beat is beat! I swear I thought it was beated. Oops.