A hand-written letter arrives!

Last week was very memorable.
A very simple event, was the source of boundless joy.
The arrival of a hand written letter.
Not an email.

After a very long duration, may be years and years, I received a hand written letter.
From a caring human being, who is destined to become my relative, by law.
And I was moved.

I had to read it again and again, for the sheer pleasure of holding it in my hands and re-living the joys of receiving, reading, loving hand written letters.

We grew up that way.
Somewhere down the line, I got victimized too to the convenience of emails.
This gentleman, now in his 60′s, obviously did not.
He wrote a letter on a piece of paper, using a pen.
In neat legible handwriting.
I wanted to reply too, in the same vein.
Promptitude has always been a virtue, in me.
I was not able to.
And that inability was gnawing me every day.

I resolved I would, and not call him instead to say thank you…I would write back a handwritten response.
Though I have his cell number I did not reach for the buttons.
I held back.
I have to write to him.

Despite such firm resolutions, it’s now almost a week and I haven’t.
I could not and am feeling miserable about it.
Such a simple act of yesteryears is nearh impossible, now.

In these past few days I might have responded to hundreds of emails, within minutes, but here was an act that had to be done, for sure, but new habits having now formed, have forced me to not to.

The gentleman in question doesn’t have an email id to begin with.
He is not even net savvy.
That adds to my predicament.
I have to write back a handwritten letter!
I haven’t.

Finally, as an interim measure, in order to get over the guilt of not acknowledging/responding within a reasonable time, I gave in, I did call him up, and expressed my gratitude with a promise of a written response too.

Why was I not able to write?
I had the paper.
I had the pen.
I had envelopes.
I had access to postage too.
The post box is also there…a few feet away from my home.
The postal services are also alive and kicking.
The will to write is also there.

Then what is missing?
A habit that is no longer “the habit”.

Yes, the habit of writing hand written letters has long since diluted, dissolved too.
Almost dead.
Thanks to technology which has made the pen a tool of the past and the keyboard, the tool of the now.

No wonder then, I am one of the victims of modern times.
To be blamed, not being able to respond back, with the promptitude of yesteryears, through hand written letters, reciprocating love and affection, in the same vein.

Not him…he wrote to me the way he grew up, lived with, and has retained it as a habit.

–

Arun alias Axee is an ex-combat pilot turned executive life coach. He is actively involved with Brian Tracy in a novel learning initiative, iLearningGlobal.biz/axee. Contact him at emarshalarun@gmail.com.