Letters to a Dream

By Dibyak

Characters:
 Aarav, an elderly man
 Meera, an elderly woman
 Two Mimes, non-speaking roles who act out the scenarios described in the letters
Setting:
A stage is split into two similar but mirrored living quarters. On one side, Aarav's room, lined with
bookshelves filled with old books and journals, a desk cluttered with unsent letters and a fading
photograph. On the other, Meera’s room, featuring a large window with a view of the monsoon rains and
a writing table with stacks of paper and a lamp. Both are surrounded by symbols of a life lived separately
but shadowed by the presence of each other.
Plot Summary:
Blending elements from Charles Lamb's Dream Children: A Reverie and Rabindranath Tagore’s Shesher
Kabita, the play unfolds the poignant tale of Aarav and Meera through their unsent letters. As they narrate
their letters, their stories are brought to life by mimes, reflecting their imagined lives together. The
narrative explores themes of memory, loss, and unfulfilled love, culminating in the tragic but beautiful
revelation of their unspoken love, echoing the melancholic and introspective tones of both literary works.
Letters to a Dream is a rich narrative that combines the melancholy of unfulfilled dreams and the beauty
of eternal love, woven through the lifetimes of two souls destined to love, separated by circumstance but
forever connected through their words. The structure and emotional depth provide a powerful stage
experience, resonating with themes of lost opportunities and the poignant beauty of what could have
been.
Act I
Background narration behind the curtain:
In the twilight of forgotten alleys,
Where shadows speak,
Where time weaves silence with threads of the meek,
There lie the whispers of a dream unlived,
A tale of love unspoken, in veiled hearts sieved.
Two souls adrift in life’s vast, murmuring sea,
Bound by the silent cords of what could never be,
Their words, like autumn leaves, soft and sere,
Float across the years, shedding invisible tears.
In the hush of dusk, their echoes stir the air,
A dance of longing, a quiet despair,
With every unsent letter, a bridge unseen,
Spanning the distance of the life that might have been.
As stars unveil each night their tender gleam,
These kindred spirits meet where dreams convene,

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 In the silent theater of the mind's gentle embrace,
They find each other, though lost in time's wide space.

Lights rise slowly, illuminating Aarav on one side of the stage. He's surrounded by a lifetime of books and
letters. Across the stage, Meera sits by her desk, a single lamp casting a soft glow over her stack of unread
letters.
Aarav (reading aloud): My dearest Meera, as the twilight of my days enfolds me in its quiet, I am drawn
back to the innocence of our early years, to days when time lay before us, rich with possibility.
(Mime 1 and Mime 2, as young Aarav and Meera, play in a lush garden, their laughter light and carefree.)
Meera (reading aloud): Beloved Aarav, each sunset I watch alone brings me back to those shared sunsets
over the river, where our words flowed as freely as the waters and our dreams as wide as the sky.
(The mimes are now teenagers, sitting by a riverbank, throwing stones into the water, their gestures
relaxed and intimate.)
Aarav: Years swept us on different paths—you to the arms of another, and I to the solitude of my studies.
I heard of your marriage in a letter that never reached your hands, filled with confessions unmade.
(Mime-Aarav, now older, stops writing a letter, his expression one of resignation. He folds the letter,
placing it into a book instead of an envelope.)
Meera: My marriage was a chapter written by familial duty, not by the pen of passion. He was a good
man, kind and just, but my heart wandered back to the riverbank, to the echoes of laughter that were
truly ours.
(Mime-Meera, beside her husband, looks away distantly, her expression one of longing as her husband
speaks to her.)
Aarav: In my dreams, I built us a home, with walls lined with books and gardens filled with flowers you
loved. Our children played under the mango tree, their joy a soothing balm to my imagined life.
(Mime-Aarav walks through an imagined house, touching books, smiling at children playing around him—
children that aren’t there.)
Meera: How often I wished to turn back to those days of shared secrets! Our children, whom I bore in
silence within my heart, learned to call another man father. Yet, in the quiet of the night, I whispered to
them the tales of a hero who lived in my reveries—you.
(Mime-Meera sits in a dimly lit room, speaking softly to two children, pointing at an unseen figure in the
distance, her expression sad yet loving.)
Aarav: Decades have folded into one another, a book often reopened but seldom read anew. Tonight, I
write not of regret, but of gratitude for the love that has lived silently in the shadowed corners of my
heart.
(Mime-Aarav, older, sits writing by candlelight, his face marked by the passage of time but his eyes still
bright with unshed tears.)
Meera: Aarav, in this quiet room, your name is a sacred chant that breaks the silence of my solitude. Your
love, unspoken yet deeply felt, has been the undercurrent of my existence.

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(Mime-Meera, echoing Aarav’s actions, writes by candlelight, occasionally pausing to touch a locket at her
neck—a locket that opens to reveal a faded photograph of Aarav.)
Aarav: As I face the twilight of my life, I see not the darkness but the brilliance of the stars—the same
stars under which we once dreamed. Tonight, I will place this letter by my window, a silent sentinel
watching for a dawn we once hoped to see together.
(Mime-Aarav places the letter on the windowsill, looking out with a hopeful yet resigned gaze.)
Meera: And I, with trembling hands but a heart full of undying affection, will send these words into the
night, where perhaps they’ll find their way to you, across the vastness of what might have been. In my
dreams, I find solace in the sanctuary we once imagined—a haven where shelves overflow with books and
gardens bloom with the flowers you loved.
(Mime-Meera releases her letter into the wind, watching it disappear into the night sky, her face a mask
of longing and love.)
(The stage darkens except for a spot on Aarav and Meera, each alone but connected through the years of
unsent letters. They slowly stand, their movements mirrored, reaching out towards the audience, towards
each other, but never touching.)
Aarav & Meera (together, softly): In dreams, we have lived. In dreams, perhaps, we shall find each other
once again. In dreams, we've lived and shared moments together. And maybe, just maybe, we'll meet
again in dreams. Each night, as we sleep, it's like we go on adventures together, exploring places beyond
our imagination. And who knows, in those dreams, we might find each other once more, like old friends
catching up. So let's close our eyes and let our dreams take us where they will, because who knows what
magic awaits us in the world of dreams?
(A soft light fades out completely, leaving the stage in darkness, with the sound of rustling leaves and
distant waves playing as the curtain falls.)
Narration in background in darkness

Whispers in the night,

Heart's silent plea,
Love left unsaid.
Memories linger on,
Lost in time's embrace,
Regret fills the void.
Nostalgia's bitter taste,
Fades into darkness,
Love's flame extinguished.
In the depths of solitude,
Echoes of what could be,
Haunt the soul.
Goodbye left unspoken,
Tears of regret fall,
In the silent theater of the heart