Wednesday, November 26

red letter day.

this needed a diary entry, because it is from him that i learnt to write diaries. this needed a mention here because it is to him that i wrote my first letters. and it's him i received my first letters from. days when yellow postcards and blue inland letters were available in local paan shops. when my language and handwriting were equally unsure, but someone was always eagerly waiting to read them. when kolkata meant three months of advance booking for three tier sleeper tickets and three days of travel and STD calls involved the mediation of an operator, but no guarantee, these letters were an only connect. and for him, a window into my growing years. of the many lamps that lit my life and ran out of oil or flame this year, this is surely the one that has taken the most light away.

for the oldest and grandest man i knew, it's apt i write this from the old familiar comfort of a moving mail train.

grandfather gone.

Saturday, November 22

prod

what's a life
without consequences
take a chance
too

Monday, November 3

my north star

Thinking of five years back, when i left Bombay for my MBA, i remember you spoke of all the things you feared you'd lose me to and I'm now fearful of how true, all of it has turned out to be. Through all this, thank you for being so constant. With you, I'm never lost. Or atleast i know where i have to be.