Born in a small village in Rajasthan – so small that the world doesn’t know its name.
Forced into a marriage at a young age to an older woman – a common practice in rural desert. Son at the age of 21.
Lying on a Sufi shrine right next to his house, where he learnt to smoke chilam, he often thought his life was over.
Then : Jaipur. To study literature, on a scholarship. Sometimes, no money even for food. Not even for cheap bus rides.
That’s where he met my mother. That’s where he wrote some of his best poetry.
Someday I will go to that small little village where he grew up, where most of his family still lives – where his new life was never accepted – where he first learnt that to make marijuana more effective, one should have some hot tea
I will go to that little village, and maybe beyond the barrier of time and space, I will find that little boy who would in the future give me a heart that doesn’t tremble.
The little boy won’t understand anything when the strange, mad girl from the city would ask him:
Baba, show me where you first found courage.
2 responses to “In praise of courage”
Onek din baade…
Onek din baade mood holo. I will try and post regularly now. Thank you for reading, as always. Hope you’re well. 🙂