Ali was very familiar figure for post office because he used to go to there daily. He would go and sit at a particular bench every day, waiting for his name to be called out. On one day, he had come to the post office after several days as he had fallen ill. He enquired for his letter from the postmaster. The postmaster, who was in a hurry to leave, lost his temper on Ali and called him a pest. Ali was not at all a pest; it was just that he came after many days so he was curious to know whether a letter had come for him.

Dear Friend Shakeel,
I have been ill from last several month and feeling fed up with my illness. I would no longer be alive. Before dying I would like to express my feeling to you that’s why I am writing this letter to you.
Happy memories are a source of joy when one is old and about to die. When I grew old, I gave up hunting as I could now understand the pain of getting separated from a loved one. Life had changed for me. My only daughter got married and left me.

I after being separated from my daughter realized that the whole world is made of love and the pain of separation is unbearable. I have spent these days in trying to realise the anguish, pain and suffering of a father who had been waiting anxiously for his daughter's letter for last five years. I have visited every day to post office in search of a letter from my daughter. I am leading my life in the pain and grief of separation. I am undergoing a deep sorrow and feeling restlessness and tired. I think I have lived my life.
Now, I think I should stop writing with hoping of your good health and condition. It might be my last letter to you. I request you to keep the letter of my daughter protected; if you find it deliver at my address.
 Yours loving friend
 Ali

B.

optimism 

C.

went there with faith and hope