Conversation with my Father

I am beginning my MA project finally!
After a circuitous process of doing
one week projects exploring my new
found city, I am strangely being affected
by these stories that my father tells me
in an innocent attempt to make me realize
where I come from. They run, overlay'ed,
as I take my walks through galleries,
cobbled alleyways, and chrome tinted
shopping malls.

I got this mail from Dileep Cherian one
early morning. This is the phase where you
don't know where your project is going to go.
But it is so nice to hear from people I haven't
met, feels like if I meet them again, we can
have conversations like you would with
old friends!

hi aindri,
had seen your blog many months back
when an NID friend of mine fwded it.
today i stumbled on it again, and i
happened to see the 'conversation with
my father'. it was so real and moving
and i believe everything your
father said.

One of my favourite tutors from NID, Immanuel
Suresh shared this with me today as well:

"It reminded me of some other stories

of my dad also but I am sure u wouldn't
have understood MISA it happend
somewhere in 76. I guess I was also
small then.
CocaCola was driven out in 76 and a
new govt. was formed in 77 and the
drink was called Double Seven 77.."


I got this beautiful poem from Mr. Brij
Chatrath. It is lovely to find feedback
as stories, poetry or just encouragement!

You hold the small finger of the hand

Which feels so small in your hand

With love and affection

You tug it along

Till the strength of the wind

Gives her – her own wings!

You release the hand

And stand on the sand

Those impressions of a distant land

The father sees

In his own hand

The strength of the child

So he extends it from a distance

To touch and feel

The welfare of the child

In a distant land

Across many seas!