March 1990, Leningrad – USSR
The snow glistened as the rays of sun penetrated through, bringing a surge of joy over the dreary landscape. Winter was shedding its garb, giving way to a long-awaited spring, as the streets of Leningrad bustled with activity.
Nadia Stankova, a fifteen-year-old charming Russian girl, sat at her study table by the large window, contemplating with a pen and paper in her hand. Beside her, there lay an inverted envelope with the initials ‘H.S.’
Nadia opened the envelope carefully, for the third time, and unfolded the letter within, handwritten immaculately in English. Her heart skipped a beat as she brushed her fingers over the words in blue ink and a beautifully cursive handwriting. It was from her American pen-friend, Henry Smith, a suave nineteen-year-old, from San Francisco.
The letter read as follows:
Hi Nadia!
Hope you’re doing well! All’s well at my end. How’s your school going and your other creative pursuits? It was nice to know that you are also a philatelist! Would love to go through your stamp collection someday!
By the way, I’m bursting to break some news to you… I’ve been selected to join the United States Military Academy later this year. My long-cherished dream of serving in the forces seems to bear fruit, finally! Though this will be my first stint away from home, I’m eagerly looking ahead.
What about your plans for the future? Do keep me posted.
Yours Truly,
Henry Smith.
Though their acquaintance had been only a year long, Nadia had created her own picture of Henry, in her impressionable mind. She saw him as genteel and sophisticated, and the idea of him joining the military fluttered her heart.
Calming her overflowing emotions, Nadia wrote back:
Hello H.S.!
So good to hear from you! I am really thrilled to hear that you are going to join the U.S. Military Academy soon. I will be waiting for you to share your experiences with me.
My life goes on as usual, with school and other activities. By the way, I’ve finally figured out what I want to pursue. I really want to be a medical student as Biology is my favourite subject. Russian Medical Science stands among the best in the world, and I aim to serve the multitude through my practice!
Do wish me luck!
Keep me posted as I shall eagerly wait for your letter!
Lots of good wishes,
Nadia.
As she sealed the envelope, a tear drop rolled off her cheek, while a longing rose in her heart… an ache Nadia hadn’t known before. Was it only a mirage she was seeking?
December 1991, St. Petersburg
The Soviet Union underwent a complete transformation in the last year, culminating in its formal dissolution. The year saw a failed coup attempt against President Mikhail Gorbachev, followed by a series of events that led to the collapse of the USSR and the emergence of new independent states.
The Communist regime was breathing its last. It was a win for democracy while the U.S. capitalist forces rejoiced. The Cold War finally seemed to thaw, and the Iron Curtain was lifting.
The Soviet Union would now be called Russia, as the ideologies of Karl Marx and Lenin were fast losing ground.
Leningrad was renamed as St. Petersburg through a collective decision by the Russian government. Russia’s medical science and healthcare system underwent significant changes due to the collapse of the Soviet Union and the transition to a market economy.
The winds of change helped Nadia’s ship of dreams sail smoothly. She had begun a challenging yet rewarding journey as a student of medicine in Volorosky Meditsinskiy Universitet. The medicos were grappling with the unprecedented rise in the number of infectious diseases and mortality rate.
The years seemed to gallop with every breath she took. Soon, she was interning at the hospital, with a year more to complete her degree.
January 1997, Volorosky Medical Center, St. Petersburg
“This patient, age 25, has no past medical history. He was brought in here last night with a fractured leg and severe concussions. It’s a case of hit-and-run accident. Vrach, check his vitals and get him ready for surgery, nemedlenno.”
Nadia was a junior doctor and it was imperative that she followed her senior’s command.
That night, a slight sense of unease knocked at her chest.
Despite not having slept for the past twenty-four hours, she picked up the little stock of scented paper she had reserved for the special people in her life. Her hands felt the familiar tremble as she wrote:
Hi H.S.!
I know it’s been very long. Hope you will pardon my silence. I have been through many autumns and springs and hope the same of you. I rode my dream horse and arrived at my destination a few years ago. I am a junior doctor at Volorosky Medical Center in Petersburg. Life here is challenging but I have no complaints. I hope to complete my post-graduation in cardiology in the near future. How I wish you were here! I could empty my bag full of anecdotes into your patient ears. And I have something more to say… something that will shape our future together.
How foolish of me! I keep ranting about myself. You must have passed out of the Military Academy. Where are you posted now? Hope you are happy. My chest swells with pride when I think of you.
Hope we meet soon!
Warm regards,
Nadia.
A week later, Volorosky Medical Center
Nadia awoke to a gloomy Monday morning. It had rained incessantly the previous night and the sun was still sulking behind a gray curtain. She quickly made her way to the independent children’s center where she was assisting her senior vrach, Michelle Mykov, that week.
She was examining a five-year-old when her friend and colleague, Lydia, barged into the cubicle and pulled her into the waiting area, ignoring her protests.
She slipped a blood-stained letter into Nadia’s fair palms.
“How do you know Henry?” an anxious whisper left her lips and hit Nadia hard.
She staggered and crushed the letter between her palms. Its seemingly sharp edges cut through Nadia’s rosy dreams.
“Before you ask, he is the hit-and-run patient who was admitted last week. Take a deep breath, he is alright and discharged today. We found this between his clothes, which we had to return. And we found this too…”
Through filmy eyes, Nadia gazed lovingly at the picture of the handsome soldier in military uniform. She tried to decipher the contents of the letter.
**“Nadia! Looks like you have forgotten me. Well, I’ll never let you do that. So here I am, at St. Petersburg. Then why this letter, you may ask? There’s something I simply don’t have the courage to speak. I LOVE YOU! I have already started stacking up bricks of dreams of our life together.
No! Please don’t reply to this letter. I want to hear it from you… my gut says you feel the same.
My love, there’s so much we have to plan and share… Can’t wait to see you.
Henry.
The sun now peeped out shyly, sending a tingle of warmth coursing down Nadia’s veins. She relaxed, holding her first love letter close. She hoped that Henry would read her unspoken affirmation and come back to claim the reign of love.
Glossary:
Meditsinskiy Universitet: Medical University
Vrach: Doctor (in Russian)
Nemedlenno: Immediately (in Russian)
We hope this story touched your heart as much as it did ours. If it stirred a memory or left you longing, do share your reflections in the comments below.
Image Courtesy: https://pixabay.com/users/stephgablerphoto-9931567/
Written by: Anwesha Bhattacharya & Srividya Subramanian
About the Writers:
Srividya Subramanian is an English educator by profession and a writer by passion. She has authored numerous poems, short stories, and a novella, along with independently publishing two acclaimed poetry collections. Her works have been featured in multiple anthologies, earning her several accolades, including the prestigious Kala Literature Award for Best Poetry. Her website, www.srividyascribbles.com, is a vibrant reflection of her literary journey, offering readers a rich tapestry of her creative expressions.
Anwesha Bhattacharya is a passionate writer of prose and poetry, deeply inspired by nature, divinity, and the nuances of the human psyche. Her creative expressions reflect a thoughtful blend of emotion and insight, often exploring the beauty in the everyday and the spiritual. A recipient of several awards and accolades, she is also an accomplished artist. Through her words and art, Anwesha continues to celebrate the timeless power of storytelling and poetry.
