Lost Letters Through Time"

In Search of Lost Feelings

It was almost 2 AM. The silent city lay asleep, but Aritra’s eyes refused to close. He stared at the old letters scattered across his desk—some faded, some yellowed with time, each a silent witness to the past.

Suddenly, a notification popped up on his phone. A post he had written on an Instagram page called Timeless Letters had gone viral—

"Has anyone ever written a letter that deepens with time?"

Among thousands of comments, one stood out—

"Perhaps the letter is lost, but the emotions still live on. Do you believe that?"

The profile name: Priyanka Sen.

Curious, Aritra replied immediately—

"I want to believe. Have you ever received such a letter?"

Priyanka didn’t reply right away, but after a while, a message appeared in his inbox.

"I want to show you something, if you have time."

Aritra’s curiosity peaked. He responded at once—

"Of course! How?"

Priyanka replied—

"Tomorrow, 7 PM, at 'Old Book Café'. Do you have time?"

Aritra hesitated for a moment. A stranger from Instagram was inviting him to a book café. Was this mere coincidence, or was time really sending him a message?

After a brief pause, he typed—

"Alright. See you at 7 PM tomorrow."


---

The Next Evening

7 PM. The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Aritra stood at the entrance of Old Book Café, hesitating for a moment. Was he making the right decision?

But curiosity pushed him forward.

The café was warm and nostalgic—old books stacked in every corner, handwritten manuscripts hanging on the walls, and soft yellow lights wrapping the place in a quiet glow.

In a corner, a girl sat by herself, a small wooden box resting beside her hand.

Aritra walked up slowly and asked, “Are you Priyanka?”

She looked up and smiled.

“You finally came.”

Aritra pulled out a chair. “You said you had something to show me?”

Priyanka opened the wooden box. Inside lay rows of old letters—some handwritten, some typed on an antique typewriter, and a few so old that the paper had turned brittle.

Aritra’s eyes widened. “What are these?”

Priyanka lowered her gaze, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Letters written over time. Each one holds a mystery, a story that has survived through the years.”

Aritra flipped through a few letters, his fingers tracing the faded ink.

“Where did you find these?”

Priyanka’s eyes sparkled with an unreadable expression.

“To know that, you have to read the first letter.”

Aritra picked up the first one. The envelope bore a single sentence—

"If you truly believe that feelings can survive time, then time will reveal the truth to you."

A shiver ran down his spine. Who wrote this?

Carefully, Aritra unfolded the letter. The paper was old, slightly torn in places, the handwriting delicate yet strong.

> "Dear,
I don’t know who you are, or when you will read this.
But if you truly believe that some feelings never fade,
Then let me tell you a story.
On a cold winter evening in 1987, a young man handed his first love a letter in this very café.
There were no mobile phones then, no internet—only waiting.
The girl read the letter, but she never replied.
Time moved on, people got lost,
But the emotions remained, folded inside these pages.
Do you want to find the answer?
Then read the second letter…"



Aritra’s heart pounded. He looked up at Priyanka.

“Is this real?”

Priyanka smiled faintly.

“Do you believe that feelings can survive time?”

Aritra was silent, his mind swirling with a thousand questions.

Priyanka pulled out another letter.

“This one’s for you to read now. And then you tell me—does time really keep love alive?”

Aritra opened the second letter. The paper was even older, parts of it almost erased.

> "Dear Arnab,
I know you’re looking for me.
But time has separated us.
Will you truly wait?
If you do, you’ll find me at the same place
Where you gave me your first letter.
Love doesn’t disappear,
It only changes with time."



Aritra’s breath caught.

“Arnab? Who is Arnab?”

Priyanka’s eyes gleamed.

“Did you know that 30 years ago, a young man waited here… at this very table?”

Aritra felt an odd hollowness in his chest.

“This story… is it real? Or just an old legend?”

Priyanka pulled out another letter.

“This is the final one.”

Aritra unfolded it with shaky hands. The paper was ancient, yellowed with age. The handwriting trembled slightly.

> "Dear Meera,
I don’t know if you will ever return,
But I know that I want to wait.
Time changes many things,
But the first letter you gave me
Is still close to my heart.
If you ever come back,
I will be right here,
In this old book café."



Aritra set the letter down, his fingers trembling.

“Did Meera ever come back?”

Priyanka’s expression turned wistful.

“No. But the letters remained—silent witnesses to love.”

Aritra sat in deep thought. Then, almost whispering, he asked,

“Does love truly survive time?”

Priyanka smiled. “To find your answer, you must write a letter.”

Aritra frowned. “For whom?”

Priyanka leaned forward and whispered, “For the future. Just like Arnab did. Write, so that one day, someone reads it and understands—love never dies.”

Aritra hesitated, then pulled out a piece of paper. He picked up a pen and began to write—

> "Dear Unknown Reader,
If you ever wonder whether feelings fade with time,
Read this letter.
Love never dies—it only waits.
If you believe,
One day, time will give you your answer."



Aritra placed the letter inside the wooden box.

Priyanka smiled. “Now do you understand?”

Aritra gazed at the letters, lost in thought.

Perhaps, some love stories truly live on—with a letter, a memory, a waiting heart…

(The End.)