Dear Sir

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 51; the fifty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with Red Ink Publishers and "Curse Of The Red Soil" by Durgesh Shastri. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

And won the Gold

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17th January 1889,

West Sussex.

Dear Sir,

Greetings. Thank you very much for not discarding my letter without reading. For it is only you who can make my life. 

I have seen many letters but this is the first time I am writing one.  If this letter may not seem very correct, please forgive me as a child. I have written it secretly as I did not want my mother to worry more about me. 

My mother says when God created earth, it gifted animals with alertness and doomed man with intellect. With intellect man can think, she said, he can plan and he can dream. Why? To survive, we need to think and plan. But why do we need to dream? I asked my her. She then showed me her empty purse. "My purse is empty now but when I close my eyes I see you me and your father smiling, we are at the opera, I am handing out the money, and the woman is giving me the tickets. 'Enjoy!', the woman says. I know nothing of it could be true, least of all having your father back. But in dreams, I can, Dreams is my second reality. You will not understand", she said tousling my hair. But I did. I loved that idea, Sir. And I too wanted to dream.

When I lied down that night, I thought what is it that fascinated me? What is my dream? What do I want to experience badly. I could not point out but I felt as if it was very near but still out of my reach. It was after that day that my mother says I started behaving crazy. 

She used to catch me starring at the knife. Once she caught me holding it at my wrist. Believe me sir I do not remember doing it. But whenever I saw it, I wanted to smell the mix of metal, blood and what I have never thought before, death. A child to think of such things, my mother was terrified. She slapped me. But that couldn't stop my whirling mind. My dream, I realized, was to know death. That thin line between life and beyond was so clear to me and I often thought how would it be like, to cross. And Sir, life didn't play fair too. Mother asked me to put the rubbish out of my mind. But death was so much easing around me. The salty sea and silver flying fish, the waves, how much they were inviting. The running engine, the speed, the wind and the rustles of passing trees, they were appealing, provoking thoughts of how it would feel to experience, the jump. The vast dark sky at the cliff , filled with millions of twinkling stars and the moon. It is disappointing that one would never be able to dive into them, the stars.

I never shared these thoughts with my mother but she saw them written on my face nevertheless. Finally, she took me to doctor. I don't remember what he said cause I was lost in that room, it was the like haven to my need. The scissors, knives, pliers, the small tall glass with blood, cotton, it was like the death was at play in the room. I could smell it. It was like hovering in the air and I just had to stretch out my hand and touch it. I was all smiles but when I saw my mother struggling to take out money from her purse, turning over her bag to make it for the doctor's fees I felt sad.

My mother held me closer that night. "What has happened to you?", She said. Her eyes were filled with tears. She looked as if she had aged by ten years in two weeks. She was so fragile, it was like I was looking into the eyes of death. I said sorry to her. "Don't do anything stupid, please", she said. I said I won't. She held me to her heart. I heard it, the pounding sound of her heart, dub dub. I never heard it sound so high. The sound of life. She looked at my face and read my hesitation. She sighed understanding. 

"What is it now?", she asked. I could hear her heart was beating loud and fast in anticipation. I want to be a doctor, I said. To my surprise she smiled and tears flowed down her cheeks. I think she thinks this is not one of my other stupid things. So I think, maybe it is not. And so here I am, writing this letter to you. I want to bring life back from the touch of death. To see death in face and bring life back. We are not rich people Sir but I am ready to do all your work, anything. Please take me as your apprentice and I will owe my life to you. I am waiting for your reply Sir, waiting to put that instrument you showed me that day, into my ears and hear life loud and clear. 

Yours faithful and obedient,

Rob Marcel

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