The Black Book of Anthology

Senders Address: Unknown  Date: 17 April 2023 Dear, Harshita It's been a while right…. You've grown up, so strong little girl. You know your smile, shines brightly among the crowde, and your specs makes your face more padhaku. Topper ! ( Chuckel ) I sometimes wonder, behind that smile how many nights would you have spent crying. I sometimes wonder……….how pain have gromed your wings so fairly. I don't know you. But you seem perfect to me. Remember, their are people that smile when they see you. There isn't a need to write a letter now, but I guess I want to. It's true I got to know about your boyfriend after half yearly exams.  May God bless you dear, live a good life. May you be strengthened to live through the hardships.  Sorry if I said anything inappropriate.  I won't disturb you anymore. meavawriter4.blogspot.com Senders Name: Unknown

  Senders Address: Unknown   Date: 17 April 2023 Dear Harshita, How have you been? Everything is fine at your home right? How is your mother? Do the flashbacks still hurt? From where I stand, I see a brave girl, who has held up well against the incident. I see you smile. I see you healing your wings. The flashbacks will keep on coming throughout life, but all we can do is accept them and heal from them. Yes, they do break our hearts, but still, we have to have to move forward na. Take it easy, give time to yourself. Give time to understand everything.  I don't know if you read my previous letter or not, but I hope this letter reaches you. I am no stalker, and no this is not a love letter. You don't know me, so don't worry about who sends these letters. But I see you Growing up. The 5 stages of grief, and the poem on holi. You guys, you, Shailja, Kavya, Anvesha, Pragati, and Parinita. You guys bring life to our class, jumping around the class, poking fun at each other, and...

Senders Address: Unknown  Date: 09 March 2023 Dear Harshita, I recently heard about your father. I am sorry for your loss. You don't know me, but I have observed you for a while now. I have also lost some people in my life. I know how it feels.  The way our hearts sinks when it hears the news. Seeing the dead body our mind just desires for them to wake up again. All the cries and moaning Ecos for days. No sign of sleep, as soon as the eyes start to shut, you are reminded of the dead face. Seeing a man, so lovely, rest lifeless. It's a sight that burns your eyes. A different environment is created. They say the soul protects the house for 13 days they say it visits the house in these 13 days. Harshita did you ever think, You would see your father in just a small earth pot… such a big man and all is left are the memories and the things. You know how suddenly all the memories and moment you spend with them comes to your mind and slowly becomes golden. Suddenly, it's all gon...

Chapter 1, Start of Summer (Part 03) White Swan While being there, in Dehradun, I got close to an elder sister, we would chat late till night, about topics close to our hearts. We would share our lives tales with each other. Her family, her problem, my life, and my problem. In the dim light, I would chat late till the night itself felt sleepy, and then when ending the chats and saying our ‘good nights’ and ‘take cares’, we would just tease each other about waking up late till night. I always found it funny, how we two always found time to talk at night, when almost the house was asleep. Sometimes we would call, and her sweet voice would filter through the earphones to my mind. I would sometimes find her outside in the garden at night, at the terrace, or in bed. She would tell me stories, and I would ask questions about life to each other. What better way to define a person than a poem?  Enchanted Forest A Forest, looks normal from afar But, when you're close She bewitches you, with...

  Chapter 1, Start of Summer (Part 02) A Saddened Journey  12/June/2022  The packing is complete, and we are off to catch the bus. With every gust of wind that touches us, we are reminded of the purpose of our journey; to see Tai Ji, who is in the last stage of stomach cancer, chances are low....but we are trying everything. The bus is mostly empty, but as the time of departure approaches, it starts to get crowded. To be honest, night travel by bus is quite different, and it makes me long to travel with my friends like this. The slow humming of the crowd and the sounds of the bus fill the environment with dark blue ambient lighting. Mother by my side, a book in my hands, and lofi songs in my ears. The bus gradually makes its way out of the city, then rushes to its destination. I won't disagree that it's a bumpy ride, but it's a peacefully gloomy ride to Deharadun. During half-sleep, I create plans for the future. Some will get fulfilled, and some will wonder at the dre...

Chapter 1, Start of Summer (Part 01) First Day of School As souls move together in time, in a small rusty van. They grow and connect, and time shows them many faces and many conditions. A small, rusty van where around twelve children could be cramped in the back and two in the front, excluding the driver. It holds: sliding doors that hung to its sides; a yellow stripe that went around it like a snake; comfortable seats covered with leather; a sweet driver uncle; and a lot of memories that we treasure, cherish, remember, hate, and neglect. I remember we had given our tenth board exams in mid-spring, and now we move onward with results in our hands and toppers in the skies. It was my first day in the 11th grade. The weather was just starting to warm up. As COVID had also cooled a bit, we didn't have to wear masks any longer. Before even starting the day, before even reaching the school, before even all of it. Under the morning sunshine, I moved forward to the point from which I bo...

The Gift of Dark Nights  6 January 2017, 10:12 PM  From:  D.kellen24xxx@gmail.com To:  Layla.frost.904xxx@gmail.com  Subject:  3 wishes Good evening silent soul,  have you heard of the term Kintsugi? It's the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. They highlight the fractured parts of the pot, as it shows how long its journey has been, and what it has gone through.  So, just enjoy life, as it is. Don't overthink things.       Bambo flute, nursery, an author, I wonder what your life must be like. Here my life comes around half-dead people, and cries of sorrow. " Who knows, if our words were always together, just in a parallel universe?  this world is a small place, anything can happen in this world."... and in this anything, is there a thing where we never met?  I am not a good writer like you, nor am I an auth...

The Gift of Dark Nights  5 January 2017, 09:38 PM  From:  Layla.frost.904xxx@gmail.com  To:  D.kellen24xxx@gmail.com  Subject:  Friends.45email.com  Hello Darien, my name is Layla Frost. To be honest, I never thought someone would actually mail me but, it's nice to read about you. I think the hobby of sleeping is mutual, but aside from sleeping, I like gardening, I like running, I don't play guitar but I play the bamboo flute.      I own a nursery and work part-time as an author, and everything else works just fine. So, what type of person I am? let me think, I will say, I am not the best person you will meet, I am not the perfect person, I don't know how to talk, I don't know how society works, and I multi-task to keep all my mental problems at bay. I am just a broken person, a broken soul, a silent soul.  Some say the wind always follows a path, some say the winds always travel straight, or maybe it's just the world that...

The Gift of Dark Nights  4 January 2017, 11:43 PM  From: D.kellen24xxx@gmail.com To: Layla.frost.904xxx@gmail.com  Subject: Friends.45email.com  Hello, my name is Darien Hills. I saw your profile at 'Friends.45email.com:'. I am 26 right now, working as a doctor at an estate hospital.      My hobbies include playing online games, sleeping, and playing guitar, not much else comes to my mind to tell you.  Some say the wind always follows a path, some say the winds always travel straight, or maybe it's just the world that makes it curl on itself. Now, who knows if our world would curl up to meet each other, or would they pass each other like parallel trains.     So, what type of person are you? according to yourself. What are your hobbies?

 What would be the saddest way to leave this Earth?