Letters of Love

Client : Letters of Love

Category : design for kids . writing . storytelling

YEAR : 2018

100 new year cards were delivered to children the high risk zone of Swaida in Syria for New year 2018 !

Children living in war zones are at high risk of suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) & depressive disorders. Letters of Love is a non profit organisation that aims to infuse a sense of normality in the lives of refugee children through handwritten letters.

The following illustrations & stories about friendship were made for Letters of Love. Around 100 of such postcards were made by me & were delivered to the conflict zone in Swaida in Syria in 2018 via Letters of Love.

Rasha, Operations manager in Syria receiving letters

The story I am about to tell you could be a work of fiction. Any resemblance to a real person or events is purely coincidental.
But of course, we can debate on how to define each word in the above disclaimer. Who is a real person, what belongs to imagination are all entirely up to you and me to negotiate.
For now, let's begin

This could be the story of a chase.
Maybe I was the one who chased you, it could very well have been you chasing me.
In this story one thing is for certain, we couldn’t stand each other at the very beginning. The only words we spoke to each other where to ascertain how angry we made each other. We loathed each other from the moment we met.
But then we were forced to build things, together. We were forced to learned to be okay with each other, slowly.

Then we learned to talk to each other, to talk about everything we loved, we wanted and we wanted to become. We learned to talk about everything else, of our fears, our secrets, things that made us who we are, things we needed to unlearn because we no longer needed our armours.
You have taught me that distance and time cannot leave a mark on things which are meant to be, things that come easy to us. May be this story be about you chasing your dreams, fighting your battles, and me conquering my fears, sorting through my head, while we let each other be. We know we are going to be around, we have taken our time knowing each other and to be ourselves.
This could also be about the 100 different stories you know

This could be about us and the nights we spend talking about ghosts, spirits and all sorts of thrills that we could chase in our many lifetimes. This might be about us being the only people in the world and making terrible maggi in the middle of an eerie night where we were surrounded by cats. I could tell you all about the short bouts of laughter and love. Sometimes the nights become longer as we fought tooth and claw. There were times we would be in the same place and yet somehow never run into each other. But there would always be those nights were we would fall asleep on the same bed, talking tirelessly about witches, campfires, mythical creatures and everything else we couldn’t speak of during the day.

Maybe this is about chance. About an evening where I lost my way in the forest and I chose to seek out this mighty creature I had heard stories of. And there you were, with a big smile on your face. You hunt at night, like a true queen of the forest. You were majestic, fierce and fearless. You stay up all night hunting and you wear your scars around your eyes (dark circles, meh). May be this was how chance decided to play tricks on us by letting me find my way to you. With you, I could never be lost in the forest. I had found the creature that is impossible to find. And now, I could do the impossible.

There is a way you came into my life and changed everything. I cannot remember what it was like, before you, anymore. I cannot remember how the rooms were, what colour the sheets were or what they smelled of. I cannot remember how I used to spend my afternoons if not for watching you play with sunlight and shadows. I cannot remember what gave me strength to brush aside obstacles if not for the knowledge you brought with you. You showed me a place inside my mind that I had shut the doors to. You pushed open the doors and made me remember. I remember now! Like you, like all of us, I was born with a certain strength. You and me, we did not build walls, or let them stop us. We knew that we had to move forward no matter what was on our way. We did not back down. We knew that the key is to keep moving, to take those baby steps. I cannot believe that this is something I have to relearn again and again now, from you.

I did not know you. I did not have to meet you. The legend had it that you held the key. But you held much more than the key. You held power, the kind that could reach into anyone and bring out the best in them. You wake up everyday, you run, you feed, you build, you nurture, you teach, you lift the world on your shoulders (mighty strong ones at that!), you set your sails and dart into the days you desire to build. How can you possibly live so many lives in a day?But what truly sets you apart is how you do all of that while being kind, generous and letting others grow. Everyday I look at you and wonder where your strength comes from. And I wonder why you lift me up every single time, without blinking an eye or moving a muscle. But the important thing is that you do and because you do, I have learned that I must send the same to the world.

Then there are the ones that were always around. The ones who would feed idli to fishes after giving them a bath because they followed your orders. These are the ones who set off accidental fires in pursuit of science. The ones who break open your makeup bottles and wear it, all around their body. The ones you play and fight with, the ones who follow you around. The ones you lock into cupboards, the ones you plot to throw away. The ones you watch from the time they opened their eyes to their acne phase, sexy face and hopefully to wrinkles. You just watch in awe, as they navigate the maze, as they come out stronger, more beautiful, more intelligent. You watch them as they become kinder, bolder, spread love and they begin to tell you things you wish you had told yourself.

We refused to be with each other at the very beginning. We were born of the same blood which is precisely why we did not want to fulfill the story that was written for us. We wanted to find our own tribe, we needed to be our own person. But in all that time we spent trying to not know each other, how did you turn out to be the one whom I have known longer than most things in this world? This one is for the friendships and sisterhood that finds its way into our lives, taking all the time it needs, showing you how life always finds a way

You taught me about stars in the sky, the birds that are around, the trees, wind and everything else that I know. You taught me how to eat an orange, and how to chew my food. You would read about everything in the world and read me Shakespeare before tucking me in. You gave me the gift of words and made sure that I never fell short of stories to tell.
I have missed you every single day and I still find myself having conversations with you in my head. I hope to become more like you some day, to have your passion for doing things you believed in, your courage to stand for what is right and the simple and beautiful ways in which you lived.

May be this is the story of the night I met you and of the many nights I met the many versions of you, me, and of us.
Do you remember the night I cried on your shoulders at the beach, or the nights I terrified you by showing you what I really am? Then there were the nights I would spend writing letters to you that you would never read, of the nights we lied to each other about the good byes we have written for each other, just in case.
But we could never really write them. We are not ready to say our goodbyes. Not yet.

Thank you for being awake in some corner of this world, at any given time, because you are the ones who bring me sleep on the nights I cannot.
The end