A Letter to an Old Friend

Sana...

How are you?

Where do I even begin...

These days, everything is about text messages. People barely even talk on the phone anymore. There’s a new thing now—voice messages. But I can never quite get the hang of them. It feels strange hearing my own voice. Like I can’t even understand what I was trying to say. Sometimes, I even end up laughing when I play my own message back...

So, I thought, why not write you a letter?

Do you remember the first time you wrote me a letter? I wonder if it’s still lying somewhere in my mother’s house. It was so unexpected. And the way it reached me — through my father’s office! Both our fathers were in the Armed Medical Corps, and when that letter arrived, I was convinced you had just saved the cost of postage & stamps and used official mail of your dad instead...

But then...

Turned out, that letter wasn’t just about saving a stamp: It was your way of surprising me. And what a surprise it was!

If anyone should teach people how to write letters, it’s you. You didn’t just write; you poured your heart onto the pages. Your letters were genuinely pieces of arts. That immaculate handwriting of yours—those pauses, the hand-drawn emojis of silly faces, even... Every thought, every feeling was there. And oh, the glittery stickers! You used to decorate the letter so beautifully, as if trying to soften the weight of all the emotions you had packed into it...

I was in 9th grade, you were in 10th. Your board exams were coming up. And yet, what do I remember the most? That one sentence of yours that still makes me laugh...

"I wish someone would drop a bomb on our base so the school would shut down!"

Hahaha! We were so innocent, so unaware of the world. Our biggest worries weren’t wars or responsibilities. No, for us, the biggest nightmare was moving to a new school and dealing with those "bitch-ass" girls. That was the whole crisis! Moving schools, moving places, new friends, new teachers...

And do you remember that boy? The one who had the biggest crush on you? LOL. I still laugh thinking about it. You had described him in your letters in detail. I think he was some pretty Pathan boy… the kind of guy who could make girls swoon. But of course, he had a crush on you. How could he not?

You were always the prettiest girl in the class. So shy, so effortlessly beautiful, and always just a little out of reach. The kind of girl people admired from afar but never quite had the courage to approach.

Sana,

You had written about how much you missed me… how different Peshawar was from Gujranwala… how you never quite liked that city. I could feel it in your words, how out of place you felt there. And yet, through all the moves, all the changes, one thing remained the same, you never forgot me.

For the longest time I kept your letters, tucked away in the drawer of my room in my parents' home. That room isn't mine anymore. So yeah, those letters aren't there anymore maybe...

And the greeting cards. I remember some of those. Especially the one you sent for my birthday. The caption is still fresh in my mind:

"One day out of 365 doesn’t hurt. Be specially good on your birthday."

And then there was that other one — where you had actually numbered all the reasons why I was your best friend. Some XYZ number of reasons, written on a card, with a message added alongside each reason in that perfect, neat handwriting of yours. I still remember smiling like an idiot while recalling it.

Sana, I wonder… did we know back then how rare a friendship like ours was? Or were we just two girls, writing letters, thinking life would always be this simple?

And yet, here I am, writing to you again—just like old times.

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Sana, if you’re reading this, consider this letter officially delivered. Some things deserve more than a text.

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_{Thank you, @inspiracion, for this beautiful opportunity. Walking down memory lane felt like revisiting a part of my soul I hadn’t touched in a long time. I may share this post with my friend—my real friend for whom I have written this imaginary letter. We’ve been out of touch for a while, but every single word I wrote came straight from the heart.}