Letter to M., #4

Dearest M., Do forgive me for putting these words into verses Which will just complicate things and None of us will want to see; but M. Is there anything on this Earth that is ever Complicated? Dearest M., I had a dream. I don’t even know if it was about the me and you Or […]

Letter to M., #3

Dearest, dearest M., I hope you are well. And all the other hopes? You have already known them, thus, I will refrain from saying. Or writing. My country is fine. My parents are fine. I am fine. Or at least, that’s what everyone wants to believe. You know, M., during the little time I had […]

Letter to M., II

Letter to M., II

Dearest M., I trust that these letters are still lying under their 8-feet grave of silence and ignorance. Or else, what’s the point of me writing them. Recently, I’m obsessed with Albert Camus’s “The Myth of Sisyphus” in the most literal sense of the word (and the literal meaning of it, in my sense, is […]

Letter to M. #1

Letter to M. #1

Dearest M. I was out in the evening with my mother and I thought of you. The thought of you being here with me has never been gone. And with time as its strongest armor, that thought has put me through the sweetest torture I can ever imagine. So, what’s up? Still good? Still pouring […]