Lalita

It’s hard to make sense of this. Wonderful, wistful.. lovely Lalita passed away today. I don’t quite know how to express grief for her.

I’ve never actually met her. When her son came to stay at our place for a day last year, he seemed surprised that we hadn’t met ever. I had my tickets booked for the 10th of September. I was to see her on the 10th.

I wrote her poems. I don’t know how else to comfort. I called her sometimes, and we joked and bitched on the phone. She called me ‘Chinna Ponnu’ and promised to make me bitter gourd curry. Last September, when I was in India, we spoke on the phone almost everyday. I promised to come to Calcutta next time I was in the country. I was in Delhi on her birthday last year and sent her a photograph of mine that she liked – one with two parrots. She mailed me later and for some reason said “Thanks for sending the one with TWO parrots.”

In February this year she fell ill, with every week her voice became more feeble. I don’t want to remember her that way – but I really can’t separate my memories right now.

I’ve known her for two and a half years. It’s too short a time to know someone so wonderful. You know how it is, sometimes you sort of adopt someone and make them a part of your life. I have her blog open in another tab, and for some reason can’t help but cry. lali.jpg

Dearest Lali… I’ll always wonder what it would have felt like to sit next to you, with a cup of tea, and perhaps flipping through some old photographs. Big Hug.

PS – Am closing comments on this post – …

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