I chanced to see the letters,
You wrote me a long long ago,
Each alphabet,
Stood before me with an image,
That hid so many stories, and
So many tender moments of affection.

I held them in my palm,
Smelt the scent,
That was hidden under each syllable.
The letters were worn out by time,
The folds cracked,
As each one of them were read and re-read
Innumerable times,
Lost the strength
To bear the emotions
That were falling heavy on them.
Some syllables had vanished by tear drops
Some had vanished in the folds.

As I held the letter,
Bits of paper fell in my lap,
Reminding me of the time gap.
I gathered the torn pieces
Tried to join them in their places
But some syllables were
Never to be found.