A Literate Passion- by Anais Nin and Henry Miller- What it did to me

Anais and Henry, I don’t know at length what bonding you had shared. I know you through your impassioned letters. Such muse and creative juices they arouse that I want to have them released through this amateurish attempt of mine. I admit I have not read you both individually. I only, and only know about your expression viaduct these letters. It is ironic that I am reading you both at an age when all communication keeps reaching a virtual high, almost every day. Nonetheless, it is an exhilarating relief from the virtual walls of information sharing. The anticipation, the anxiety, the expectation, or even the urgency that lie beneath, neatly tucked into the labyrinthine layers of your writing-relationship; leaves me spellbound! It only goes to show the sheer power of words: you emoted only through the world of words, awaiting impatiently, the delivery of each other’s letters. I am heartened to learn that you existed in the past, for if it was now, you would have merely been reduced to a ‘green dot’ of availability or even have dwelled in the ‘outbox’ or ‘sent items!’ Oh yes, again, am glad I am reading you now; for it has set me thinking on a sweltering evening in Chennai...