A LETTER TO TORU WATANABE

From 'Norwegian Wood ' by Haruki Murakami

A letter to Toru Watanabe, a character who is not only just pen on paper but represents most of us today.

By Srijani Jana , BA Hons Psychology , 2nd Year

Design and Edited by mannat , BA Hons Psychology , 2nd Year

Dear Watanabe,

I have been walking alongside you in my mind for quite a few days now. Wandering those quiet Tokyo roads, breathing in the fresh outline of the city against the louder hum of your thoughts. You seem like an old soul, who is stuck in the warmth of the past and doesn't wanna let go to face the present. You carry the world like an old coat, worn, familiar yet heavy with the scent of memories you can't shake off. You hold onto people you've lost as if letting them go would erase them completely.

You held Naoko so close to your heart that you were no longer different. You both became one soul with two bodies. I often thought you were like a bridge, standing between life and death, between those who wanted to stay and those who couldn't. I wonder if you've ever thought about the fact that death is not after life but a part of life. I also ponder upon the question I've always wanted to ask you: have you ever felt whether giving all your emotions and feelings to the people who have faded, sometimes made you wanna fade too?

Speaking of which, Midori, a bright, unpredictable and wonderfully alive human. You couldn't accept her quickly, but perhaps that's because you couldn't accept life that easily either. She was the kind of person you needed in your life, that reminds you that being alive is being like a wildflower swaying with the seasons; gentle yet resilient. I hope you know that keeping the memory of the dead is far more important than being one of them.

Lastly, I just want to tell you that it's absolutely fine even if you have no idea about what you are doing in life or who you actually are. We're all on our own paths of figuring that out. You're allowed to laugh without guilt, to love without the burden of loss on your shoulders. Wherever you are now, I hope that you let people in, the air feels lighter and the music you listen to reminds you of summer instead of a gloomy winter full of goodbyes.

Yours sincerely,

A reader who walked beside you