Letter 3 - Forever

Dear Princess of the winter snow,

I know we met just yesterday at the cliff where we spoke about how we would be so much better if we were animals. The bruise on my hand, when you hit me with the little stick when you got really worked up about my disapproving of your wanting to be a fish, still hurts. I can still see drops of fresh blood oozing out of it every time I prick it with my fingernail. I still disagree that you'd ever pull off being a fish. Fish are cold blooded, they feel no weather, probably no pain either. Their skin is scaly and they always have the same look on their face. They are colourful, but they have the same shade of greyness in their eyes. You, on the other hand are warm even to the worms that you might feast on, as a fish. You shiver in the mildest of breezes and snow gives you goose flesh. Your skin gets transparent with sweat in summers and you change expressions even in your sleep. I can almost tell you what you're dreaming about, just by watching you sleep. Even if you do become a fish, you'd always want to see the sun shine above you. You'd always come on the surface, and if you aren't too careful, die. You should be a horse instead. Wild, yet docile. When you'd run in the meadows, with the wind blowing your golden hair, it would remind me of freedom, and of guiltlessness.
You'd be untamed, unconquered. You never let me a chance to tell you all this yesterday. You started kicking me too soon. Another reason for you to be a perfect horse. Horsess? Mare. Yeah, Mare.

So we met yesterday. And spoke about being animals. And saw some in the clouds. And breathed through the leaves. Remember how porous they were, and how different was their smell? It wasn't a fragrance of a flower, or the aroma of a fruit. It was something in between. Like the smell of a process. Of anticipation. Of belief. Every leaf that I smell from now on, shall remind me of you.

I am trying to get to the purpose of writing this letter, but I keep digressing. Like we do on the way home. How many different roads have we taken before we finally reached the road that brought us home! Anyway, without any digressions now, let me come back straight to the motive of this letter. I am leaving. Possibly forever. I hate that word. Forever. It means nothing. It differs in its meaning and intent every time it's said. My forever, is as long as I know I can come back. I don't see that now. I couldn't tell you yesterday because we were talking about animals and this is too human a discussion. Then we digressed into better things. And then I forgot that I have to leave.

 I am 14 now and I have known you for the past 10 years. I hope I can use that knowledge to always have a chance to know you more. Write to me, like you speak with me. I'll read it like I read you. Remain a Horsess forever. And I shall know you forever.


The lord of Darkness

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Dear Lord of Darkness,

I'll wait for you to return.Till forever lasts.


The Princess of the winter snow.

Letter 2- Big-Small

Dear Lord of Darkness,

You didn't come to the party, or the two after that. Have you developed something against birthday parties? I seem to think that I have. I don't like celebrating my birthdays anymore, even if mom agrees to have no pink fancies or lacey decorations. I don't like the thought of growing up. I can't pass through my bedroom window anymore. I'm too big for that. No amount of ducking would make me hide under the table. They tell me I can't name my pillows anymore. Growing up does not seem as celebratory as it used to sound a few years ago. Also, I don't like the pressure of making sense all the time. They ask my motive for everything I say, and mostly I don't have any.

I liked it when you were young and I was younger. We could pass an entire day without having to decide what to talk about or care if we would be able to talk the next day. Remember the beatles you'd catch to make them your pet? We would have a funeral everyday. I saw a beatle crawling on my lawn yesterday. It would make a perfect pet for you. I've kept it in a glass bowl and I feed it leaves everyday. I wanted to name him, but you should do it, since he is yours. Come over someday to take it from me, before I start loving him and refuse to part from him.

The princess of the winter snow.

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Dear Princess of the winter snow,

 I am sorry for not coming to the first party and the two after that. Don't think I didn't come because of the snowflake you asked for. Because I found a snowflake later. And again, it started melting. To keep it safe, I put it back with the other snowflakes and blew it towards your place. I am sure you found it. If you haven't, Step out in the snow next time and spread out your arms. The third snowflake that falls on your palm will be mine.

 I don't think I have anything against birthday parties, except for the fact that they are noisy and that everyone has to smile for the picture. I like cakes. And the blowing out of candles. I like to watch the flame flicker before it blows off. I couldn't stress more that you are stupid to not want to grow older. Growing up is beautiful. I can now reach for things I never could when I was smaller. I re-read a book a while back and understood it better than the last time I'd read it. I learn new words everyday. Some of them hurt people real bad. Give it some time. You'll probably get used to it. 

Call the beatle "Beatle" from now on. I don't want it to forget who it is. I'll take it from you soon.

Honour,

The Lord of Darkness.

Letter 1- The perfect snowflake

Dear Lord of Darkness,

Today is my 8th birthday and I’d like to invite you over for my party. My castle will be draped with turquoise hangings and the cake will be a crown. Mom insisted on making the drapes out of pink satins, but I hate pink. I like turquoise because it’s neither pink nor green. It’s in the middle. Mom says, you can never be in the middle. You have to choose sides. But I like both sides, both blue and green. And turquoise is prettier. The other girls don’t like it, most can’t spell it, but you’ll see when you come, that my castle always needed a bit of turquoise. Mom said the cake should be a tiara, but I like crowns. I want to be a king, not a damsel in distress.

Anyway, you should come. And I want a royal steed for my birthday present.  Or a snowflake.

Kindness,

The Princess of the winter snow.

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Dear Princess of the winter snow,

I found a perfect snowflake for you. It looks like the one we see in the cartoons. It was floating in the air when I caught it. It seemed proud of itself and would actually stay mid-air before floating down again. It reminded me of you. I held it in my palm and ran to give it to you. But when I reached your door, it didn’t look the same. It looks like it was weeping. It had gotten smaller. And the shape wasn’t the same either.  I remember how two months back, for my 9th birthday, you got me the most perfect looking wand.  I actually managed to cast a few spells with it. Though I haven’t perfected it yet, but it’s still the best birthday gift. I can’t give you a weeping, sad looking snowflake. So I’ve decided to come to the party only when I’ve found a royal steed or a perfect snowflake.

Happy Birthday.

The Lord of Darkness.