For Indhu

4 days to your birthday
12 days to your first death anniversary

I go through our whatsapp chat and see that
we met at Ranga Shankara on 24^th Aug 2023
Both of us didn’t know that would be the last.
We managed to get a picture together.

Reading our messages to each other
I remember so much of what we talked about
that evening – how we celebrated some things
mourned some things, ranted about other things.

I remember how, at another meeting, we realised
the exact same moment – while browsing
a textile exhibition at the National Gallery of Modern Art
that we both love kolams and kalamkari!
The way our eyes connected and we smiled
with pure delight! I think back of the long
long, long chat we had that day till someone
working there came and took a picture of us.
Maybe we had looked like we’d grow roots?

I think back now of the song you had asked for
that evening at Ranga Shankara that I forgot to send.
It is too late now, no?

I go back to our whatsapp chat.

We chatted once each in October and November 2023.
In January and February and March of 2024 we spoke
of meeting when our schedules would permit.
What do schedules know or care of disease and death?
I wish we’d not heeded them.

On 25^th March, 2024, we spoke of nirvana – after I’d returned
from my first (and maybe last?) spiritual retreat.
“Nirvana seems very lofty,” you said, hastily adding
“not that one should not aspire for nirvana.”
We spoke of Daily Riyaaz – our yearly sojourn
of writing poetry with our favourite community of poets.
We soon wrote and read and commented on poems on the blog.

On 22^nd April, you called off our meeting in the last minute
speaking of a “scratchy throat.” On 29^th April you had got your
diagnosis and did not reply to my birthday wishes.

While you were in Ghana in March 2024, I was getting
ready to go to Auroville, remember? This year, again
in Auroville around the same time, I saw the steps we had
all sat on together in 2016 – where we’d gotten a picture
with a famous poet. Those steps will always speak to me
of you, Indhu, as will kolams and kalamkari.

Even after the way death has slapped the skin off my face
I sweat the small things, Indhu.
I miss ranting about and celebrating life with you.