A Storyteller’s Romantic Valentines Day — Letter 78 to Tom Oakley from 1939

Dear Mister Tom,

As I wandered down a familiar path,

I noticed its beauty was tinged

with a newfound novelty.

Everywhere I looked, there was joy and love!

It wasn’t just me who was enchanted by this evening, this evening of the 14th of Feb.

Even the Sun lingered in the sky as if he didn’t want to bid farewell yet.

And maybe it is true. When lovers walk, they brighten the path.

Even my bike was throttling ahead faster lost in this evening’s charm.

And I was going to, no, no..

We were going to the cafe..

The cafe that was all adorned with souls lost in each other’s words and stares as the melodies of guitars and pianos filled the air.

Amidst this symphony of love, dear Tom, we found our seats, ordered our teas, and savored the vibrant romantic atmosphere.

Now, my Hindi vocabulary is very limited but let me pull out one word that summarizes everything I have rambled so far:

“Bakwas” — which translates to nonsense..

So let’s cut the nonsense and rewind, shall we?

I’ve known this city since I was a child.

It doesn’t need a bunch of blushing teenagers or lovebirds holding hands to render it more beauty. It is pretty all by itself.

“It’s strictly couples only today,” Bharat from the cafe joked.

“Well, you’ll have to join me for a coffee then”, I replied.

His sudden laughter, an unexpected yet genuine reaction to my silly joke had surprised me.

“Any plans for the evening?”, a friend asked me earlier.

“Yea, I will go to the cafe and curse all the lovebirds”, I told her.

And I did say “we”, didn’t I?

So who were “we”?

It was us — me, my camera and my bike!

What more do you expect from someone who responds in silly smileys or in silence to the rare recipience of any form of romantic prospect?

And my good friend, Sherlock(my camera) had run out of battery as if he didn’t want any memories of this evening, especially with me as the odd one out in a cafe mostly filled with couples.

Do I sound angry, mister Tom? Upset? Oh I’m not..

And to reiterate, the nature was here first.

It needs no shy smiles or youthful presence to exalt its beauty.

Except, maybe, in certain instances.

Like this one when I saw the eyes of this lady that same evening who I had seen before once. Or maybe twice.

She tilted her head to the left as her eyes looked back and stayed so for a fraction of a moment, just enough for a beautiful smile to light up her already enticing face..just enough to silence all the noise, just enough to blur out the glass wall between us and the dozen souls around us and just enough for both of us to have a brief wordless conversation..

That’s enough Bakwas for one letter, dear Tom.

Thank you for your patience.

Your friend,
The Boring Brooding Brook

To,
Tom Oakley,
Little Weirwold,
England
1939