A friend writes

[Got this letter from an old friend. I should have saved all her letters.]

"The weather was damp with the half moon breathing hard in the sky. The night's long and lonely path caressed by the sweet scent of wind. Glamour shone like a gold in a distant city - all lights shimmering, cocktalls served. The colours of silk and satin glazing.

I felt my own life moving... moving..but the body sat still.

what was life without the need? what was life without the warmth of the black suite glamour? I was watched when it was time to return and could not move. I watched carefully what I was into, I watched - lonesome were the dreadful sweet dreams.

At last I learned to move away limping. The rural setting still too far, i thought i would not fail catching up that slow simple life.

Stuck in the middle - struck by need - my old life screamed and called me names..

I wanted to stop limping. How could I get slow for the old ways? They were aged but I was not! how could opportunity be bigger than the old fashioned dreams?

I took out the peacock feathered notebook from my brown leather bag and started to scribble. Stop screaming my past, stop cursing my present. Just wanted to live. Cant be that hard! Cant be so damned hard! Can't bear the loss.

Needed one line of Nazrul's poem. The green jungle of passion, The questionable thoughts and the strength to become completely drunk by one person's presence.

Catch hold of the time not the gold watch. That my friend is of no use."