Inspired by the movie “Julie & Julia” in which Julie tries a new recipe daily, as well as a short story in Murakami’s “The Elephant Vanishes” where a group of people get together to write letters, I’m embarking on a project titled, "Letter Templates".
The mark of a good writer for me is when the reader feels a complete sense of identification with the writer despite being complete strangers in entirely different circumstances.
So “Letter Templates” traces a series of letters addressed to a multitude of varied individuals: the clinic receptionist, the gardener, the school girl, the brother, the distant grandmother, the deranged professor and others. Each letter is penned from a different character. It is in these fictitious letters where I hope the power of words is reflected and the reader thinks to himself/herself: I get goosebumps knowing how closely aligned my thoughts and emotions are with the writer.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Letter Template on "Ending It All"
Dear John,
I never explained because I didn’t know how I could start. I always felt that we were going about in two different languages and getting through was an impossible feat. When pride gets in the way, a thousand reasons surface, every one of which makes unquestionable sense. Also, I was always made suddenly inarticulate in your presence-- my vocabulary downsized to monosyllabic responses. Initially I was left hanging on the line and the confusion compelled me to take hold of the situation. When I took a plunge, I was prepared for the silence that entailed but reality was still more difficult to manage than expectations. I wasn’t complaining though. With what I had requested, I was getting exactly what I had intended for. So the meaningful conversations and personal sharing gave way to noisy banter. It grew even quieter with all that noise. I’m not sure if there was a better way that things could have unfolded.
Everything was swept under the carpet and there was nothing much left to be said. But I guess a part of me was always waiting for something to happen. A reconciliation, a thrashing out session, a meal—I wasn’t sure what exactly either. With all that silence, I could only try to guess your thoughts. I was convinced that I was only remembering the good stuff and blurring out the bad. Still I hung around.
And then one day, it suddenly ‘clicked’ within me. I don’t know why or how because it was just an ordinary cloudless day, one of those days which seem like a continuation of the day before. At that one moment, I realized that despite all our similarities, we are actually worlds apart. But that wasn’t it—what hit me was that I would never really be happy with you. I was simply desiring for something that was difficult to reach and that was your allure, which became my challenge.
I’m finally letting the past go and I wonder why it took this long. Now everything seems comparatively straightforward.
Love,
Mary
I never explained because I didn’t know how I could start. I always felt that we were going about in two different languages and getting through was an impossible feat. When pride gets in the way, a thousand reasons surface, every one of which makes unquestionable sense. Also, I was always made suddenly inarticulate in your presence-- my vocabulary downsized to monosyllabic responses. Initially I was left hanging on the line and the confusion compelled me to take hold of the situation. When I took a plunge, I was prepared for the silence that entailed but reality was still more difficult to manage than expectations. I wasn’t complaining though. With what I had requested, I was getting exactly what I had intended for. So the meaningful conversations and personal sharing gave way to noisy banter. It grew even quieter with all that noise. I’m not sure if there was a better way that things could have unfolded.
Everything was swept under the carpet and there was nothing much left to be said. But I guess a part of me was always waiting for something to happen. A reconciliation, a thrashing out session, a meal—I wasn’t sure what exactly either. With all that silence, I could only try to guess your thoughts. I was convinced that I was only remembering the good stuff and blurring out the bad. Still I hung around.
And then one day, it suddenly ‘clicked’ within me. I don’t know why or how because it was just an ordinary cloudless day, one of those days which seem like a continuation of the day before. At that one moment, I realized that despite all our similarities, we are actually worlds apart. But that wasn’t it—what hit me was that I would never really be happy with you. I was simply desiring for something that was difficult to reach and that was your allure, which became my challenge.
I’m finally letting the past go and I wonder why it took this long. Now everything seems comparatively straightforward.
Love,
Mary
Monday, December 28, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Memory's a funny thing.
Festive seasons are like birthday parties for me. They keep us very busy and in business, we are kept a little lonely as well.
When I turned today, a person I had previously dated was two arm lengths away. I was caught by surprise. My first instinct was to turn back around before he caught sight of me to avoid the awkward moments of eye contact. It was scorching hot. I continued looking in his direction when I realized he was absorbed in a conversation which gave clearance for staring. So, two arm lengths away with throngs of people separating the both of us, I observed him in his new haircut. He looked better than I had remembered him to be. Someone who had shared a piece of history with me was now a stranger, like a black distant figure fading into a tunnel. I cannot remember what I had liked him for. Strangely, all I remember are the minute forgettable details: places, dates, timings, food, bus stops, playgrounds, movies, tile designs, the concert we wanted to go for but never did, random details that don’t deserve attention. Everything but the person himself. Is this how memory works for all? Or for all the things that didn't eventually work out?
It’s gonna be a new year soon and I guess new beginnings are enough reason for cheer.
When I turned today, a person I had previously dated was two arm lengths away. I was caught by surprise. My first instinct was to turn back around before he caught sight of me to avoid the awkward moments of eye contact. It was scorching hot. I continued looking in his direction when I realized he was absorbed in a conversation which gave clearance for staring. So, two arm lengths away with throngs of people separating the both of us, I observed him in his new haircut. He looked better than I had remembered him to be. Someone who had shared a piece of history with me was now a stranger, like a black distant figure fading into a tunnel. I cannot remember what I had liked him for. Strangely, all I remember are the minute forgettable details: places, dates, timings, food, bus stops, playgrounds, movies, tile designs, the concert we wanted to go for but never did, random details that don’t deserve attention. Everything but the person himself. Is this how memory works for all? Or for all the things that didn't eventually work out?
It’s gonna be a new year soon and I guess new beginnings are enough reason for cheer.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
this is for my soul sister
I’ve been thinking about this during the exam period so much such that it feels as if I’ve ended my exams in anticipation to write this. I’m not good at springing surprises, and this is the closest to a surprise that I can come up with. I remember returning from Langkawi- sunbaked and tired, to a heartfelt Facebook wall post and I ran through the message over and over, highlighting the parts I liked while smiling sheepishly at the computer screen. This is a note of appreciation disguised as a belated birthday greeting:
I can’t remember how we gave each other the affectionate soul-sister label but it birthed out of a frivolous incident and was given meaning through the weeks and months after. For all the details that I’ve forgotten, the memories that stay close to my heart make up for it. The most vivid ones are the long conversations we’ve had. I read somewhere that solitude doesn’t come from being alone but from meaningless interaction and it is no wonder I have never felt empty when I’m with you. Thank you for the nights you rang me up when I needed it, for being my constant helpline, for those precious sleepover sessions-- for giving me so much more than I’ve given you. You told me before that life is not in the big prizes won, but life is a constant struggle to move from today to tomorrow. And this sisterhood we share is a gift prized more than any other achievement, tiny or huge. Happy twenty-second MK. And for all the tomorrows to come, I hope for you to be as happy as happy can be. : )
I can’t remember how we gave each other the affectionate soul-sister label but it birthed out of a frivolous incident and was given meaning through the weeks and months after. For all the details that I’ve forgotten, the memories that stay close to my heart make up for it. The most vivid ones are the long conversations we’ve had. I read somewhere that solitude doesn’t come from being alone but from meaningless interaction and it is no wonder I have never felt empty when I’m with you. Thank you for the nights you rang me up when I needed it, for being my constant helpline, for those precious sleepover sessions-- for giving me so much more than I’ve given you. You told me before that life is not in the big prizes won, but life is a constant struggle to move from today to tomorrow. And this sisterhood we share is a gift prized more than any other achievement, tiny or huge. Happy twenty-second MK. And for all the tomorrows to come, I hope for you to be as happy as happy can be. : )
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