Flowers at her feet

So rarely, does love meet worship. If I could draw a wen diagram of the two, then the dark area where the two mingle, would be the experience of Uma Trilok's, Amrita-Imroz, A Love Story.

This little book is printed with the ink of courage. Imroz is a heart made brave and clean by love for Amrita, Amrita herself is a tall woman, and to love them both together, and then to write about it, is the loyal tiger, Uma.

There are four ways to read this love story.

If you like paintings, you can see the brush Imroz has dipped in paint that never dried, as he paints and paints the woman with a mind.

If you like Punjabi, even if you don't understand a word of it, you will feel it earthing the three bulbs, Amrita, Imroz and Uma.

If you like poems, you will memorize the poems, so that you may sing them on a cloudy, rainy day. You might even translate them to your mother tongue.

If you like photographs, you will wonder if the photographer was a filmmaker, or did these two really lead such enchanting lives.

Then, of course, if you like reading and breathing deep after every page and sometimes, just closing your eyes and breathing. And letting the tears flow.

'What do you like most of Amrita?' Uma asks Imroz.
'Her presence.' He replies.

Amrita is not well. Uma gives her healing sessions. Amrita asks Uma to recite a poem.

Patte mere ghar aaye
Chandni mein dhule Geet bunte,
jhanjanate
Gungunate
Patte mere ghar aaye

Patte yoon hi bane rahe perh par Phir bhi,
jhankte, langhate
Khirkee ki dehri paar kar
saamne ki deewar par
Dheeme sahme se dolte
Patte mere ghar aaye.

As Uma finishes her poem, Amrita holds her hand and says, 'Uma, how could you feel the pain, the parting, the friendship and love of the leaves?'

When Amrita is burning on the pyre, Imroz stands in a corner, away from the others, watching.
Uma goes to him and says, 'Don't be sad.'

'Why should I be sad? What I could not do, nature did.

I could not free her from her physical pain. But, nature has freed her.

A soul broke away from her body, to become free again.'

If one can learn to love the soul, death is transcended. A loved one is gracefully allowed to fly away.

This one is for you, Aai

It took Namesake an entire fat book for the protagonist to get hooked to a novel. And it happened because the poor sod has nothing better to hold on to.

Various are the reasons why a book becomes a man's best friend. Dangerous, and fatal are the germs that carry this infection. In Namesake, the incubation period was far too long, too lonely.

I thank God, for giving me a mum who was such a bookworm that I got it too. The Sunday afternoon which had three of us, Aai, Raju ( my sis) and I, each sitting with her back against a tree, each with a novel from the local library. The place was a garden, and the triangle the trees made was aligned to a secret pot of nectar somewhere in the heavens. For a long time we sat thus, lost in our three different worlds, our feet in touching distance from each other's.

So, before I talk of the book that hasn't left my hands (mind, actually) since the last two days, like the dancer on stage, I thank the one who taught me how to love a book.

Beg, borrow, steal, fight for, give away, read in the toilet if no other place is safe. Buy, or occasionally, bid for. I confess, there are at least two books in my house, that I have stolen.

Beg? A few years ago, Aai was in a train when she saw her favorite author's book in a woman's hands. An unread edition.

"Excuse me, where did you get this book?" Aai asked her.

"Library" the lady answered.

"Oh. Which Library? When are you planning to return it? How much did you pay as deposit to the library? I mean, how much money will you lose if you don't return this book? "

...the end of the story is that the lady handed over the book to Aai, without even having finished it.

Goddess Saraswati, you are my birthright and I shall have you!

So the book I was talking about, is a book on a very interesting aspect of the life of a great writer: Amrita Pritam.

Actually, I started this post with the thought that I will write about Amrita-Imroz, A Love Story, by Uma Trilok. But I got so overwhelmed by my religious fervor that, well, if you have reached this far, you know what I am getting at.

Next blog: Amrita-Imroz, A Love Story, by Uma Trilok.