That last letter

That last letter

The same familiar streets of the city, the same old buildings, the same fragrant winter evenings… but this time everything had changed. The light drizzle and cold wind had wrapped the whole city in a blanket of sadness. This same city was once a witness to the love story of Anirudh and Sanjana.

During college days, whenever someone gave an example of love, Anirudh and Sanjana's name would be taken. The laughter of both of them, their dreams, the banter between them - everything was like a beautiful picture. But the picture of life is not always the way we want it to be. Sometimes the colors of these pictures become blurred and faded.

Sanjana's father was an old-fashioned person. When he came to know about Anirudh and Sanjana's relationship, he without any hesitation fixed Sanjana's marriage with a big businessman.

"Your love is not your life, Sanjana. You have to think about your family and society too!"

The harsh words of her father tore Sanjana's heart apart.

Sanjana tried a lot, but the respect of the family and the taunts of the society were taking her away from her love. It had become her compulsion to accept the relationship suggested by her father.

Before marriage, she came to meet Anirudh. There were tears in her eyes and her hands were trembling.

"If fate wishes, we will meet again, Anirudh…" Saying this, she left.

Anirudh looked into her eyes one last time, as if he was trying to say something. He wanted to stop her, but Sanjana left. With her, her laughter, her dreams, her love… everything went away.

Years passed. For Anirudh, the world kept moving, but his life had stopped at the same place-at the point from where Sanjana had left.

Now he had become a famous writer. There was depth, pain, and the pang of an unfulfilled love in his stories. When he wrote, it was as if he was turning the pages of his own life. Every story had a lost heroine somewhere, who would not return.

On the other hand, Sanjana's married life was just in name. Her husband was always on business tours, and she lived alone in a big bungalow in the shadow of her unfulfilled love. Her smile had disappeared. Life had everything, but the most important thing was missing—love.

One day, Anirudh was cleaning his old house. A yellowed envelope was found among the dusty boxes. It was written on it with trembling hands—

"To Anirudh... Sanjana"

His hands trembled. When did this letter come? How did it come?

He opened the envelope with a pounding heart. Inside was a paper on which something was written in fading ink—

"Aniruddh,

By the time you are reading this letter, it might be too late.

I know, I left you without saying anything that day. But to tell you the truth, I am still there—with you, in your memories, in your unfulfilled dreams…"

Aniruddh's eyes became moist. He read further with trembling hands—

"Perhaps this was the end of our story… But if we ever meet, do not call me a stranger again. I am still the same Sanjana of yours, who left your life one evening, but never from your heart."

Tears started falling from Aniruddh's eyes. He hugged the letter to his chest, as if all the emotions of years had surged in a moment.

It was raining lightly that evening, just like the day when Sanjana met him for the last time.

He looked out of his window. Somewhere far away across the sky, Sanjana must be missing him too.

"Sometimes those who part, don't return, but their memories stay with us forever…"

Aniruddha put the letter in his diary. The hero of his stories was always a lost lover, and now he knew why—because he himself was a part of that incomplete story.