The Last of the Letters…

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 52; the fifty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with Metro Diaries by “Namrata”. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.


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The Last of the Letters…

To whomsoever it may concern (That’s YOU, I hope).

I’ve got tired of this world. This letter is my last one.

This world has its faults. I’ve accepted that and lived with it for long.

This world is cruel. I, a boy, was welcomed into the world with open arms. My sister, my twin sister, was unfortunate never to see the world. My mother told me this in secret. It was because she was a girl. I went to my father, and asked him why. He had no answer. But I saw him beat my mother for telling me. But I only watched, and kept quiet.

This world is unfair. I got to go to school, learn of the world. My nanny’s son too came to that school. He sat on the floor, near my feet. I sat on a bench. He used an old slate. I had a book and pencil. My father told me it was because he was of lower caste; and my teacher taught us about discrimination in history. I was ashamed to be part of the present that will become our future’s history. But I lived through it, and kept quiet.

This world is two-faced. I heard my father talk to his guards. They had raped a girl from the village. I didn’t know what that was till I went to college in the city, and read about it every day in the newspaper. My father had told his guards they’d never be caught. And they never were. A voice inside me told to speak up, but I too, like that girl who had suffered, kept quiet.

This world is deadly. I had a best friend. He used to help me learn wonderful things, things not always found in the books we learned from. He believed life was about living, not just taking breaths. Alas, he perished in an accident. I saw it. A motorist hit him from behind. Instead of taking his side, some of the people in the crowd were yelling at him for walking on the road. “The road is for the motorist,” they said. Had they taken him to a hospital sooner, he might have lived. Had I spoken up then, I might have given him a chance. But alas, I too, once again, kept quiet.

The world is uncaring. Each person has their view of the world, and any other view is uncared for. I saw a man draw blood with a punch. The man he hit was poor and old, a cycle-rickshaw driver who had only asked for his fare. As the first man continued to punch, he cowered, asking for mercy. The crowd around them watched on, some egging on the punches. I spoke up for the driver. And he fell upon me. I fought back, but he drew blood from me too, and I felt the crowd pull me back. If only they had only pulled that first man back when he was hitting that poor cycle-rickshaw driver.

The world is unchanging. Years back, I heard a voice shouting for change. It was unhappy with the world around. It brought what was needed to effect that change. Yet, the change has only happened in places where urgency wasn’t needed for it to happen. The voice that shouted years back continues to shout. The steps toward the future seem to be leading only into the past.

They say, “It’s not the destination that matters, but the journey.”

But if the destination of the future is the source from the past, then the journey doesn’t matter either. For we’ve been there, done that, and not been happy with that. Going in circles is tiring, and not very useful.

It’s time we started shouting with that voice. A single voice can be lost in the thunder of a storm around it. And it has always been. But many voices echoing can still be heard past it. The unchanging voice of the world is that thunder. It’s time we made that storm into a rain for change.

I’ve got tired of this world. This letter is my last one.

And if you’re tired of this world too, then let this letter be your last as well.

Let’s leave the letters and walk in the rain of change.


The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 32 | Image via Wikimedia Commons: Writing a Letter, by Petar Milošević.


(© 6th March 2015)

Leo_new_sign1

Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

42 thoughts on “The Last of the Letters…

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  1. had someone made me read this piece without telling me who the author is, I would have surely guessed..! This is so Leo-ish! Fluid, yet powerful…! loved reading it 🙂

    • Thank you, Megha. Yes, when you’re tired of life, the first thought would be to end it, rather than change it 🙂 But it’s something to show that change can be possible! Glad you liked the post and wish you all the best too.
      Vinay Leo R. recently posted…A Piece of Me…My Profile

  2. I FEEL the angst, the frustration and the regrets in your piece – the incessant stereotyping and injustice of society. Wonderfully written. I loved the last sentence about walking in the rain of change – beautiful.

    All the best for BAT 🙂
    Shreyasi recently posted…The Letter SpeakerMy Profile

    • Thank you, Shreyasi 🙂 Yes, frustration is definitely there, because society seems to be that way, unchanging and careless. I hope it changes soon. All the best to you too, and am glad you felt my post wonderfully written.
      Vinay Leo R. recently posted…A Moment of HopeMy Profile

  3. It’s almost unbelievable that the topics we choose for the BAT contests coincides with the pressing situations stirring our society and you have always done the best to address them through your blog. 🙂
    TheCursedPoet recently posted…Dead Letters!My Profile

    • I wouldn’t say it is unbelievable, TheCursedPoet 🙂 The topics are chosen by majority voting, so it shows that the most pressing situations are what is on most of our minds 🙂 Perfectly logical to say it heads that way in the end. Glad you felt I did the best to address them through my words. Thank you.
      Vinay Leo R. recently posted…A Moment of HopeMy Profile

  4. Your association of Acts with results is so dominant over your prose. Indeed the world is all that you’ve mentioned.
    And the powerful message of raising voice over injustice. I failed to interpret the ‘Last Letter’ is it death?
    Good luck for BAT. =)

    • The last letter can be death, Prunzaye. When we say last letter, that’s the first thought we think of, I know. In this perspective, it is change.

      Time to stop being silent and writing letters to ourselves which aren’t read, and write so they’re seen and speak so they’re heard. 🙂 Good luck for BAT to you too.
      Vinay Leo R. recently posted…A Moment of HopeMy Profile

  5. wondeful blogpost with a powerful message @Leo
    A myriad of incidences have put our nation to shame…. Its time we raise our voice against such issues and form a tide to wash away those people bringing a bad name to our nation….

    ATB for BAT
    Sulaiman Sait recently posted…PEACEFUL NEW LIFEMy Profile

  6. Hi Leo,

    I have written similar letters in my personal dairy umpteen times, Alas! nothing changes. Change is the only constant thing, we gradually change as we grow and time and life takes us forward. But changing ourselves is really difficult.
    I really liked your interpretation of the theme and they way you wrote and addressed it!

    Congratulations on the winning the BAT52! 🙂
    P.S. I like the new font and the layout as well! 🙂
    Regards,
    Megha

    • Er.. this was the font when the BAT was on too, I think. Not sure though 😀 Glad you liked the layout and the story, Megha.

      Yes. Change is important, but really difficult. That’s for sure.

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