Dear Vladimir Nabokov,
I won’t say I am your fan. But I feel gratitude to you for it is your work that has inspired me the most, rather it is your work that made me realize I have a tumultuous mind that desperately wants to know more about the world, the humans, and the unanswered questions. Perhaps it was not you, just me reading a book whose writer had shown strikingly similar attitude towards life. I was not influenced by the story of Lolita but it was your mind that captured my attention. I have also read some of your letters to Vera. You have shown a similarity to the kind of people I want to have a routinely evening coffee and a discussion over things I believe in.
I want you to prove me wrong, make me squirm for words and explanations. I want to learn everything you know; I want to prove you are no special and posses all the weakness of a mortal. I want to show it to myself that Buddha was a human, so was Jesus and other gods. I want to show it to the world that in no way we are doing anything creative. I want to see if you wrote your mind for recognition or was it the need to take things out of your mind. It is difficult for me judge you before meeting you. So, I want to meet you personally over a cup of coffee. I want to talk to you about art, life, fiction and universe. I am curious to know if you are satisfied with your achievements, and other deeds spanning all your lifetime. I am curious to know your intentions in this life, your views about death and heaven, and your philosophy about writing your own life story.
It is part of my bucket list to meet you in person. I hope you are listening and would reply to this letter.
(I know I started the letter in a different tone but I can not deny the fact that I love your work)