Love Letter Through Time
A historical love letter or exchange of letters set in a distinct time period.
Love Letters Through Time
A historical love letter or exchange of letters set in a distinct time period
Letter 1—Rajkumar Virendra to Princess Meera
April 14, 1757
My Dearest Meera,
It is under the cover of the night that I find myself out in the open air, the stars above me and shining, and somehow they are whispering your name, sending their light over the spaces and miles between us. The drums of battle reverberate in the valley below, but my heart still beats for you. O beloved, I crave the smell of jasmine in your hair, the sound of your laughter, and the feel of our henna-stained hands on each other. These memories keep me standing amid battle cries and the clash of swords.
I long to be home with all of you, but my duty to our land demands my presence on the battlefield. The Marathas are descending on our kingdom, and I must read the winds to guard our people, our heritage, and the future we dreamt of standing united. Though my hands wield a sword, my soul is captive to the golden threads of your love.
Tell me, my dear, do you still walk by the riverbank where we met in secret? Does the temple bell still sound at dusk, as it did the evening we pledged ourselves to each other below its holy dome? I hope that one day I will return to you when I have won and can come back and hold you once more in my arms.
I wear a thread of red around my wrist, a reminder of the vow I made to you. As the bond of our love shall not be broken, neither shall my strength on the field of battle. Be strong, my Meera, and my heart is always with you and bonded to you like the earth is with the sky.
Yours eternally,
Virendra
Letter 2: From Princess Meera to Rajkumar Virendra
May 1, 1757
My Beloved Virendra,
Your letter is the first rain falling into my dry soul since you left. How unchaining is fate that it should break you and me asunder, hurling you into the flames of this ridiculous war while I am stuck within these palace walls dreaming of nothing but your return?
Each evening I walk to the banks of the Yamuna, and the waters there resemble the glow of the lanterns I light for you. The temple bell tolls at dusk, as it did on that holy night, and I speak your name with each puff of sound. I slow the jasmine in my hair, I breathe you, and wear henna on my hands, tracing your name on my palm, a prayer for your safety.
The courtiers talk of war, of victory, of loss, but to me, none of it matters more than you do well. I listen to stories of war, of heroes and honor, and I know that in such times, you are there, sword raised high, and when the dust settles, you guard our people. But my love, do not let war harden your heart, do you hear me? Evil should not be responsible for my work so that he does not forget me.
I enclose with this letter a silk shawl that I have woven with my own hands. May it buttress you against the unkind winds of the battlefield, just as I have been sheltered against the howling wilderness of your absence by your love. In a way, wearing it is a reminder that every strand has a prayer of mine in it, every detail a tribute to my affections for you.
Return to me, my love. Do not let time or war separate us. Until that day, I am yours, forever, in heart, in soul, in destiny.
Forever yours,
Meera
Letter 3: Written by Rajkumar Virendra to Princess Meera
June 10, 1757
My Precious Meera,
I write to you in the pale light of the moon: my fingers sore from war save the love that steadies my trembling hand upon the page. The shawl you sent to me sits about my shoulders, its heat a comfort and a promise of home beyond these war-wasted shores.
The war rages on, my love. Each morning a new battle, each evening a new scar. But your thought keeps me going, a light that leads me home. Your name is the ward upon my lips, murmured before every lunge, a prayer before every steel is unsheathed. With luck, fate can lead me back to you soon, my armor discarded, my heart freed to beat solely for you.
I dream of what is to come—the laughing beneath the mango trees, the quiet afternoons in the palace gardens, the moment when I kneel for your father, no longer a prince at war but a man who has fought for the right to love you openly.
Stay strong, my Meera. The time for rapprochement, and our love, will usher in a new era.
With all my heart,
Virendra
Letter 4: Princess Meera to Rajkumar Virendra
July 5, 1757
My Dearest Virendra,
The monsoon has begun, filling the earth with life again, and I feel you closer to me with every drop. The war will not last forever, and my heart tells me that soon, your footsteps will once again fill the halls of the palace.
All of your words give me strength, a shield against the fears that creep. I read your letters by candlelight, close to my heart, as if I could somehow contain you on these pages. I pray continuously; I believe unshakably, because I know that a love as strong as we have is blessed by gods.
I kept a diya (lamp) burning in the temple, its flame a declaration of my devotion. Every night I stare at it flicker, and with it, whisper the thoughts I do not get to say in person to you. Return to me, my love, and follow the light home.
Yours always, in fate and love,
Meera
Letter 5: Rajkumar Virendra to Princess Meera
August 1, 1757
My Everlasting Meera,
The war is won.
The war has come to an end, and I’m writing to you not from the tent of a warrior but from the edge of our homeland. By the time you receive this letter, I will have begun my journey home. No force of fate, no chain of duty, will keep me from you any longer.
I do not come as the soldier, but I come as the man who has loved you in silence and desire. Soon in presence and truth I will love you. Hold the diya for one night more, my Meera, for before dawn, I shall stand before you.
Yours, now and forever,
Virendra
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Ramesh Mahato
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Comments (1)
AW! Hope endures through war. Wonderful story.