Your inbox is you.

Long long ago, when Ponds was the only cold cream we knew of and being gay meant being blissful, humans used to write letters. Real heartfelt and soulful letters and their purpose was to make the addressee , mind you not the receiver, swoon with delight and write a similar letter in return. The sort of letters that lead to over pumping of heart and the brain indeed feels dizzy without any shot of alcohol. The sort of letters that make one forget the end result of this much sought after affair- dirty nappies and harrowing nursery admission interviews.

Mr.Letter Writer was perhaps a hormone stuck young man, who had the sense to involve a few emotions in his envelope bound creation because he kind of knew the brain structure of the opposite sex or simply put, he had spent 26 years with his mother. Miss Letter Writer was in definite awe of him and whatever he wrote, was destined to be treated as King Solomon's treasure. Years later, when the loo flap was still up and loo organ increasingly down, she would give one glance at the hand written dog eared yellowing pages and would sleep in the comfort of having the same person right next to her in the bed.

Its not that she read them each and every day and would give a flying kiss to him afterwards, grateful of having atleast some form of human creativity dedicated to her. Nopes. Instead, they became the supporting pillar of her post menopausal mood swings for an easy target, secure in the knowledge that yes, he belonged to her.

That was then.

The last time I received a letter was in 8th standard, when hormones had not yet kicked in and ego, was still a word in dictionary. You might wonder what has ego got to do with letter writing? Plenty, you see. We humans are definitely a weird lot. We want a love sick puppy for us, all the time, without any acknowledgement from our side. Of course, we want that puppy to follow us everywhere, wait for us and shower us with his unbashed delightful yelps, but we know for the fact, that if we return the same , he would leave us. Simply put, whats the point of running after someone who is already running towards you? It would be nothing more than a clash. So, if a person is writing letters to you, just drop minor hints of encouragement but nothing too praiseworthy otherwise familiarity would creep in. Sounds derogatory and regressive? But then, when have the humans evolved?

Now, all of us, in this world, have some sort of an inbox. Not necessarily a metallic one. It maybe our mail or sms inbox or the world's most renowned inbox ever - mind. And this inbox, has its own idiosyncrasies. You never know, which sms or mail it may like. How many times have you found yourself going back to that one sms that probably made your day and added another scope of a dinner on Valentine's Day? The e-mail, that appeared out of nowhere but found its way in the hallowed portals of star marked mails ? Of course, you being the captain of your ship and moods as well, ave the full liberty of keeping what you like and trashing the rest.

And thats what am saying. Your inbox is an extension of your personality. Its no one else but you. Delighted by the salary sms by your favourite bank but give a yawn to another dreadfully dull good morning sms , sent by your pal? Pleasantly surprised to receive a letter from your pre teen cousin sister who has yet to master her spellings and grammatical rules but nevertheless delights you with her school woes ? Want to give another read to your ex's sms, swearing his love, dedication, sincerity and (what not! ) to you ? Then, you are welcome to the world of inboxes. Where, emotions have been inked or typed for the pleasure of your memory. Where, just about every word is trying to please you and boy, do they succeed !

Messages are pretty funny creatures. Their times have gone by, the circumstances in which they were written have changed, and hell, the person who wrote them is probably dead but to us, it feels just the same. As if, the world has come to a standstill just for the sake of the validity of that message. The new bride cherishes her mother's first letter to her, offering some sound and time tested matrimonial advice. The nervous student still keeps a copy of his online result which led to joyous shrieks and offered a promising future. Mrs. 55 + has star marked all her facebook e-mails announcing her friends's awe at her newly streaked hairstyle. Miss full-faith-in-her-boyfriend has still kept his first ever sms to her that said a simple " Hi!".

Thats the thing about this inbox. Its a ready to refer piece of history. It marks every inexplicably significant event of your life. You might overlook them sometimes but tell your thumb to delete that sms by the simple push of button or your hands to throw away those letters and you shall know the answer.