Silence the conch shells
stop the dhakis at their drums
the winter air this festive season nips sharp
for the writer’s gone.
His pen that spilled over into thousands of words
and more will write no more.
The writer whose words could make my father’s voice
mellow and ruminative when he read him out
is no more.
The writer I discovered through translation
who turned my usually angry ever busy father
into someone approachable;
the writer whose words told me more
about my father than he would
himself,
is no more
The writer who wrote in a language my own,
and one I shrank from.
brought me close to myself than nothing ever could
is no more.
And invisible debts are thus picked up
gathered and spread around the world
making it better, a bit more understandable
always so vital to cherish and preserve
***
Anu Kumar’s most recent novel for older readers, ’It Takes a Murder’ ( http://www.hachetteindia.com/TitleDetails.aspx?titleId=32055) releases this month and is published by Hachette India. More details of this book and her other books and writings are at anukumar.org