On pancakes and balancing our moods.



Writer
*I wrote this letter a few months ago after returning from a long vacation. It is now finding its way to my blog, lest it be forgotten.*



*This is a letter I wrote last year, now finding its way to my blog, lest it be forgotten.*





Dearest Reader,
I invite you to join me on a new journey—one that takes us back to the days of heartfelt, handwritten letters. Starting today, I will be writing letters to you, just like in the good old times.
While I’m grateful for the comforts of the modern day and age, I often find myself longing for the slow and simple pleasures of the past. Perhaps you feel this way too? Letter writing is one such treasured tradition—a time when people would sit down with pen and paper, taking a moment to compose their thoughts and pour their hearts out. How endearing it must have been to take time out just to do this one activity.
Oh and the personal touch that handwriting lends to these letters, makes them even more special! And how delightful it must have been to receive a letter perfumed by a loved one’s favorite scent! While I cannot add fragrance to my letters, I’ll do my best to recreate the warmth and sincerity of letter writing in this digital age.
In these letters, I’ll share my thoughts, stories, and reflections—sometimes lighthearted, other times more contemplative. But always dear reader, they’ll be written with you in mind, as a way for us to connect on a deeper level.
I hope my letters will bring you comfort, spark your imagination, and perhaps even offer a little escape from the routine of life.
What would make this journey even more special is if you joined me in this lost art of letter writing. I’d love to hear from you! Share your daydreams and stories with me at nuraine.sadaf@gmail.com or share your thoughts in the comments.
Let’s bring a little bit of the past into our present, one letter at a time.
Yours lovingly,
Nuraine Sadaf
My Substack publication: https://open.substack.com/pub/nuraine/p/letter-1-082424?r=1r1cfn&utm_medium=ios
We do not belong to one another,
Love has no possession.
We are not in love,
For love is not a cage.
We are not two halves,
For love makes us whole.
We see one another’s imperfections,
Love is not blind.
Yet my love is your salvation,
And yours is mine,
Instead of open wounds,
We bare silvery scars,
Healed by acceptance and nurture.
This love we share,
It heals us both,
Granting the strength for us to be,
Who we were born to be.