Posted in Letters

Dead Letter

25th December, 2014

Subject: A Dear John letter

Dear Man-at-arms, 

Hahaha; got you! Guess your eyes just popped out at the sight of that highlighted subject. (I have an evil grin on). I was just returning the favour from your last mail. Alright, alright, stop fuming already, papers are inflammable. Save it for the battlefield. Besides, I have Major (pun intended) stuff to gossip about.
Both Angel and Fairy are dressed in their new chestnut coloured outfits, which have sparkly sequins. They just won’t stop springing up and down the stairs. “Daddy is coming! Daddy is coming! Daddy will bring us dolls!” Well, that’s the background music for me, and this is better than music to your ears, I suppose. And listen no dolls this year. This is a punishment for you, not for them. The Matryoshka addition can wait till you learn who’s Angel and who’s Fairy, okay? 
So Mr. Field Marshal, at what time shall I collect you from the station? Erase your sceptical expression. You thought you’ll receive your medal of valour and I wouldn’t come to know? I have my own spies young man. And by the way, who is Jenny? Better keep her at arm’s length or else! Yes, I’m sending an inch tape along. I swear I’m saying this with my arms akimbo and left foot tapping simultaneously. I know you are snickering at my bottle green face right now, but you better not take my warning lightly.
Come on, don’t give me that innocent look of yours. I’m not going to get coaxed into believing you. I am not going to…Fine. I’m letting you off the hook only because of the way you puckered your lips. Oh! Why are you so irresistible even in missives? I’m sure this is what you get paid for!
You know, I miss you. I miss you a lot. I never realised this simple sentence would ever carry so much of weight one day. The walls have turned starker than ever. Even the glitter and shimmer of Yuletide couldn’t shadow the presence of your absence. Our fir trees didn’t hum this time, nor did they bear any sign of merriment. The scrumptious looking cake and turkey tasted worse than sawdust.
I visit the station sometimes, to recollect the moment you left me with two gifts at once. The way I rammed into your embrace and how my feet swept off makes this platform a paradise for me. However, it’s a bit of sorrow too. It first makes me smile like an idiot and then creates a heap of wipes too. Sorry for this wretched handwriting…this fountain pen…is so irksome at times. Don’t nod your head like that. My tears dripped off and fused with its ink. You know I can’t even tell a white lie properly.
Please, don’t even think of quitting. Just shush that thought away now. Your pride is what makes me proud, and it’s indeed an honour for me to state at social gatherings that my Man, is at Arms.
My only source of happiness is the carefree laughter of these two munchkins. When I’m not able to pull myself up, and on the verge of an outburst, they say the silliest of things, which cheer me up and at the same time irritate me. Your daughters, aren’t they? You’re smiling now, aren’t you? Yes that’s the one I wanted; a dimpled one.
I apologise for that joke. I may have said it in humour, but there’s no way I’m ever going to love anyone more than you.
Come soon honey. I haven’t removed the mistletoe from the doorway yet. 


Jane (apparently)

And it got stamped with…


Your average girl.

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