Best JanuaryLetters Shayari, Status, Quotes, Stories

Harsh

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Behna, I never thought we shared an intimate bond until the day I was at my most vulnerable. It was January 2012 and my 3.5 year long relationship, the first ever, had ended with my getting dumped for my good friend. It was excruciating. Embarrassing, too, enough to make me contemplate suicide. You'd just moved to Delhi for college and were merely 18. I could not think of anyone else to reach out to. Should I call you? You were a kid, I thought, while dialling your number. I just knew you wouldn't judge me. Hoping you'd take my side, I called you and sobbed my heart out. You didn't freak out. You didn't panic. Half an hour later, you were at my place. You stayed for a week, skipping classes, helping me heal, conversations and company slowly filling the void. Never for once, you took sides. Never for once you blamed the girl. You taught me, with your subtle maturity, that people fall out of love. It's natural. That I should be happy for her as now she's with a person she likes. In a week, you imparted my life's greatest lesson: how to let go with grace. To the world, you are my younger sister. To me, you are the older, kinder and wiser sister. Happy birthday! Dedicated to my sister, Saumya Snehil. It was her birthday on 13th January. Click #JanuaryLetters to read my letters in continuation.

Behna, I never thought we shared an intimate bond until the day I was at my most vulnerable. It was January 2012 and my 3.5 year long relationship, the first ever, had ended with my getting dumped for my good friend. It was excruciating. Embarrassing, too, enough to make me contemplate suicide. You'd just moved to Delhi for college and were merely 18. I could not think of anyone else to reach out to. Should I call you? You were a kid, I thought, while dialling your number. I just knew you wouldn't judge me. Hoping you'd take my side, I called you and sobbed my heart out. You didn't freak out. You didn't panic. Half an hour later, you were at my place. You stayed for a week, skipping classes, helping me heal, conversations and company slowly filling the void. Never for once, you took sides. Never for once you blamed the girl. You taught me, with your subtle maturity, that people fall out of love. It's natural. That I should be happy for her as now she's with a person she likes. In a week, you imparted my life's greatest lesson: how to let go with grace. To the world, you are my younger sister. To me, you are the older, kinder and wiser sister. Happy birthday! Dedicated to my sister, Saumya Snehil. It was her birthday on 13th January. Click #JanuaryLetters to read my letters in continuation.

Harsh

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Ma, In 2002, I had shifted schools & was having trouble with English because the teacher spoke too fast and I'd not understand a word. You taught me English by translating each sentence into Hindi, helping me score the highest in the unit test. When I brought the marks home, you claimed credit for it. I yelled at you. It's not your efforts but mine that got me these marks. Your face turned pale but you didn't say a word. You swallowed my bitterness, like always. A month later, I got the hang of the teacher's diction & didn't seek your help again. I aced every exam thereon, never giving you credit for it. You never asked for it either. While every parent wanted their kid to chase their unfulfilled dreams, in 2003, you decided to chase yours instead. After 18 years of being a homemaker, you picked up the books. For 10 years, you studied every night after the daily chores, achieving B.Ed, M.Ed, NET & Ph.D. one by one. The year is 2017 & you're now a tenured professor. Self-made. You ensured your ungrateful son can never steal your credit again. Your son writes in English now & thinks of you every time he gets stuck in the web of words. It's only a Hindi translation that saves him. Dedicated to my mother, Sudha Pathak. (Her tags are off) (Open challenge - write letters to your mom with #DearMa) Click #JanuaryLetters to read letters in continuation. This January, I am writing letters to every person I love. Here is the entire letter:

Ma, In 2002, I had shifted schools & was having trouble with English because the teacher spoke too fast and I'd not understand a word. You taught me English by translating each sentence into Hindi, helping me score the highest in the unit test. When I brought the marks home, you claimed credit for it. I yelled at you. It's not your efforts but mine that got me these marks. Your face turned pale but you didn't say a word. You swallowed my bitterness, like always. A month later, I got the hang of the teacher's diction & didn't seek your help again. I aced every exam thereon, never giving you credit for it. You never asked for it either. While every parent wanted their kid to chase their unfulfilled dreams, in 2003, you decided to chase yours instead. After 18 years of being a homemaker, you picked up the books. For 10 years, you studied every night after the daily chores, achieving B.Ed, M.Ed, NET & Ph.D. one by one. The year is 2017 & you're now a tenured professor. Self-made. You ensured your ungrateful son can never steal your credit again. Your son writes in English now & thinks of you every time he gets stuck in the web of words. It's only a Hindi translation that saves him. Dedicated to my mother, Sudha Pathak. (Her tags are off) (Open challenge - write letters to your mom with #DearMa) Click #JanuaryLetters to read letters in continuation. This January, I am writing letters to every person I love. Here is the entire letter:

Harsh

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Dear Dad, Everyday after office, you took out at least a couple of hours to do your ghazal riyaaz or paint an oil on canvas or write a poem or two and read new books that you'd ordered from Calcutta. You could have chosen to sit back & watch TV. You could have chosen to crib about how unrewarding your life as a banker was. You could have drank & slept, like most working Dads of my friends did. You instead chose to fill those hours exhibiting to your kids what passion really meant. Thank you for teaching me that true love resides in creating new things, and creation itself is its biggest reward. When people ask me where I draw my inspiration from, I am reminded of your palette laid out with wet colors and linseed oil on a Sunday afternoon, the only off day of the week you had. I remember how my classmates in grade 3 went gaga over a genius called Leonardo da Vinci. How could someone do so many things? They crooned. Vinci didn't surprise me. I had one in the house. Dedicated to my dear father Sudhanshu Shekhar. Open challenge. Write a love letter to your father with #DearDad #JanuaryLetters

Dear Dad, Everyday after office, you took out at least a couple of hours to do your ghazal riyaaz or paint an oil on canvas or write a poem or two and read new books that you'd ordered from Calcutta. You could have chosen to sit back & watch TV. You could have chosen to crib about how unrewarding your life as a banker was. You could have drank & slept, like most working Dads of my friends did. You instead chose to fill those hours exhibiting to your kids what passion really meant. Thank you for teaching me that true love resides in creating new things, and creation itself is its biggest reward. When people ask me where I draw my inspiration from, I am reminded of your palette laid out with wet colors and linseed oil on a Sunday afternoon, the only off day of the week you had. I remember how my classmates in grade 3 went gaga over a genius called Leonardo da Vinci. How could someone do so many things? They crooned. Vinci didn't surprise me. I had one in the house. Dedicated to my dear father Sudhanshu Shekhar. Open challenge. Write a love letter to your father with #DearDad #JanuaryLetters