Before you begin—This is Part 6 of Musical Letters, following directly from Part-5. I’ll link all the parts at the end of this post.
Last time, Varsha was heading home, and Barkha expressed her regret for missing an important moment in her friend’s life. Let’s see what unfolds next.
An hour later, as the train crossed a small town, Varsha received Barkha’s text.
She smiled seeing Barkha’s notification, quickly opened the chat and started reading the letter.
She heaved a sigh after reading and typed-
It’s completely alright Barkhu. It’s not your fault. I get it. And honestly, I didn’t even feel like talking yesterday, so it’s all okay. Don’t worry about it at all. Mom and dad asked me to pay them a visit. I wasn’t feeling too great alone there either, so I agreed. I am actually on the train right now. I’ll probably be back in a few days or by the next week. Not gonna lie, I was waiting for your text. I am so glad hearing from you.
The night out sounds so fun too. And again, I am not upset at all, Barkhu. I am grateful to have you. I’ll write the letter to you tomorrow after reaching home, okay?
Take great care. See you soon :) <3
After sending it, she took out a packet of chips and a novel from her backpack. She plugged in her earphones and played music on her phone. Then turned down the volume, and the first song—Phir Le Aaya Dil—started playing. She started reading and soon was engrossed in the story.
It felt as if the night was also moving along with the train and whenever she lifted her eyes from the book to look outside the window, she found herself wandering down the memory lanes of her childhood.
Train journeys were something she looked forward the most in childhood. She would throw a tantrum at her parents just to stay awake at night and eat chips.
She smiled remembering those train trips, and went back to reading. After reading for an hour, she began to feel sleepy.
She checked the time on her phone. There were still five hours to go before her station. She set an alarm and went to sleep.
Barkha, on the other hand, was already asleep when Varsha had texted her.
The next day when Barkha woke up at six-thirty in the morning, she read Varsha’s text.
I am so relieved that she isn’t mad. Phew. Varsh is going home! She will probably feel better there.
After freshening up, she went to the kitchen to prepare tea for herself. She watched the boiling tea intently. Unlike other days, music wasn’t her companion in the kitchen—but the memories were.
Images of her Mom waking her up to get ready for college and then giving her tea and parathas for breakfast, floated in front of her.
Why do we even have to grow up? Being a kid was so nice.
She strained the tea and went to her balcony. She texted Varsha asking if she had reached safely, then called her parents.
Varsha, on the other side, had just arrived at the station.
Her dad was already there, waiting for her. When she saw him, she broke into a big smile. He took her luggage, and they walked to the taxi stand. She felt like a small kid again, kept following her dad without thinking anything.
When they exited the station gate, she felt a sudden warmth of familiarity washing over her.
She took a deep breath. The smell of samosas and jalebis being freshly made somewhere reached her. It was still early in the morning, and the air had a peculiar scent—of leaves, incense sticks, mist, and also of the smoke from the vehicles.
The chaos—of the passengers and all the taxi drivers calling out to the passengers on top of their voices—didn’t bother her much. She was too happy to be back in her hometown to worry about anything else.
Around twenty minutes later, they reached home. As she walked through the front gate, her Mom came out of the kitchen, and she quickly walked up and hugged her tightly.
The first thing she asked her Mom was, “What’s for breakfast? It smells so good.”
Her Mom smiled and said, “I cooked Poha. I know you love it.”
The day went on like this with Varsha and her parents sharing all that had been happening in their lives—things they couldn’t talk over on the phone—while eating her favourite foods.
Her dad had also brought Seetaphal (Custard Apple) for her, knowing that it was her favourite fruit. She was so excited, as if it was the only thing she needed.
She slept beside her mother in the afternoon and felt as if she had become a ten-year-old kid again.
In the evening, her Mom and Dad went to visit a nearby temple. They had asked her to come along but she refused to go, saying she was still tired from all the travel.
After they left, she gave her room a once-over. The study table, where she had spent her entire childhood studying, eating and sometimes cutting birthday cakes, was covered with miscellaneous items she didn’t recognize.
I have grown up and so had the house—but without me.
She sat down, doing nothing, as if trying to absorb everything and make sense of it.
She then remembered that she had to write a letter to Barkha. She took out a notebook and a pen from her bag and started writing.
Dear Barkhu,
Firstly, I am so happy to receive your text and the letter. And no, we won’t stop this ritual ever, lol. I totally get it.
Somedays, we really don’t have enough time left. And don’t you think that our letters are way too long for a single day sometimes? I realised we really spend almost an hour every day to send these. Some days it’s needed indeed, but on other days it just isn’t possible. So don’t feel bad about it. I get it.
Let’s do one thing though. Should we just write to each other once a week? Or twice? So that we both can enjoy it to the fullest and not take it as a burden? Of course, we can also write it at any point, and not just those two days. Let’s leave it to our schedules.
Also, I do know that I was way too clingy in the past and I used to feel bad over such things. But I am no longer that same person now. Yeah, I was waiting for your text, but I also knew that you probably would have been stuck somewhere.
I am sorry, if I troubled you. It’s our ritual and not some deadline to be met every day. Don’t worry about it anymore. I am okay now anyway.
So, as I told you, this trip was planned so suddenly that I didn’t even get enough time to plan anything. I got so lucky with the train tickets you know. I didn’t have any expectations of getting a confirmed seat. But when I opened the app, there was only one seat left. It was pure luck, and I even got the side lower seat—my favourite. Luck, as I’d call it, worked and I got here.
Being at home is always such a new feeling somehow that I can’t explain it. But honestly, this time I really needed it. I am feeling so much better here.
I was afraid that Mom and Dad would question me about my job status and that they’d be disappointed, but none of that happened, at least not yet, lol. Let’s see how it goes from here.
There is this sense of familiarity and a hint of foreignness in the house that makes me so nostalgic for the old days.
I feel this every time, but it weighs heavier this time. You know, I still feel like I am in the train, lol. Even when I am sitting still, it feels as if I am moving with the train. I like it though. It’ll probably subside by morning.
I feel like completing a story by the end of my stay. It doesn’t feel suffocating here. I can probably write better then. You know, mom was saying today that I should shift here permanently.
I don’t know about that though. There aren’t even those small opportunities here that I get living there. Plus, I also need solace if I want to write.
There’s another interview at the end of the month. Let’s see what happens with that. I don’t have many expectations with it, so I am okay with whatever happens.
Mom and Dad are outside. The silence here doesn’t pierce. It feels familiar and calm. The fragrance of the house here is also different somehow.
The air feels different; the water tastes different, and I should refrain from the topic of food because it will take at least ten pages to explain how satiated I feel after eating Mom’s dal-chawal. Haha. It happens every time but still I felt like saying it.
Enough of me. What’s up? How’s it going? How was yesterday? And how was today? How’s office? What’s the plan for coming days? Do let me know.
You know, I was reading ‘Deewar Me Ek Khidaki Rehti Thi’ (A Hindi novel) on the train yesterday. Gosh, Barkhu, you gotta read it. It’s such a simple but magical and immersive book that you’ll just smile the whole time you’re reading. It doesn’t have anything grand in it but it’s really so amazing.
And while reading only I heard this song for the first time. This is on my repeat ever since. It describes longing and acceptance, and how both of them weigh more than the other on certain occasions, so well. I love it. Let me quote it.
“Raaton ko meri tu pyaari lagi itni,
Khud ko hi naa rok payi vo,
Jo kehna tha mujhko,
Vo sab sun rahi thi,
Unhi shabdon ki raag gayin vo.
Toote the taare jo,
Maangi thi unse,
Un saari duaon me aayi tu,
Par dena tujhe unke,
Haq me hi na tha,
Tabhi sirf sapno me aayi tu.”
(English Translation)
“You seemed so dear to my nights,
That she couldn’t stop herself,
What I wanted to tell,
She was listening to it all,
And sung the melody of those only.
The stars had fallen,
The wishes I made from them,
You came in all those prayers,
But giving you wasn’t in their rights,
That’s why you only appeared in my dreams.”
Just take a pause here. And just play it from 2:53. The peak in the singer’s voice here is just really so good. This part is my favourite.
It goes like this—
“Ya jhootin hain saari,
Yeh baatein hi hain bas,
Jo kehti thi sach hoga,
Jo maanga vo.
Toota kabhi ek taara na hoga,
Ki jisese tujhe na maanga ho...”
(English Translation)
“Or the lies are,
All these sayings just,
That said that it will come true,
All that you ask for,
There had not been a single fallen star,
From whom I wouldn’t have asked for you.”
I’ll send you a few pics of the sky too. I clicked them while waiting for the train at the station yesterday. It feels like my old photography craze is coming back, haha.
I promise this is the last thing. I know we were planning our meetup. I will be back in about a week. Is it okay if we plan it for the next weekend? Let me know no. And also, about our letter thing. Just be honest about it, okay?
“Na kehna galat-galat,
Na chupana sahi-sahi,” okay? Lol.(“Don’t say it wrongly,Don’t even hide the right thing...”)
I am obsessed with this one too, so this rephrasing comes from this one only.
“Dil leke mera haath me,
Kehte hain mujhse vo,
Kya loge iske daam,
Batana sahi sahi,
Aankhein milao gair se,
To hum ko jaam-e-mai,
Saaqi tumhe qasam hai,
Pilaana sahi sahi...”
(English Translation)
“With my heart in my hand,
They say to me,
What price will you take for it?
Tell me honestly,
If you meet eyes with a stranger,
Then we get a cup of wine,
O cupbearer, you must swear,
To serve it rightly...”
Let’s forget that I said that was the last thing. I couldn’t resist myself from quoting it.
Okay. I’ll now go and sit on the swing and continue the novel. The swing is literally my favourite part of the house. Hehe.
Take great care,
Seeya super soon.
With love,
Varsha.
She put the pen down and her lips curved into a smile. The chirping of the birds, vices of kids playing outside and people talking amongst themselves reached her ears.
She paused for a second before clicking the letter’s picture.
After sending it to Barkha, she plugged in the earphones, took the novel and went to the swing in the balcony. The sun had already gone down but still left a tinge of orange in the quickly growing dark sky.
She took a deep breath and hummed the lyrics along with the song—Par dena tujhe unke haq me hi na tha, tabhi sirf sapno me aayi tu... (But giving you wasn’t in their rights, that’s why you only appeared in my dreams.)
To be continued…
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Thank you so much for reading. Your time and presence mean a lot.
You can check out the previous parts here—
I hope you enjoyed this read. I would love to know your thoughts on this. Your feedback will help me a lot. And if you have any story of your own that you’d like to share. I am all ears. Do let me know.
Links to the songs mentioned in the post—
Ps- I know I am so late in posting this. I’ll try to upload the next part sooner this time.
Thank you so much for bearing with me.
That’s it for today.
Until Next Time,
Take Great Care. <3
Seeya soon in the next one.
Yours,
Ameliorating A.
Dare, I say something. Letters of longing are the best way to be felt.
Long after dark, in the harmony of stars,
They sing. Like these two..
To Varsha and Barkha...
👍🥰🥰🥰