The patient smile,
the slightly chipped front tooth
the placid face, smiling,
a tinge of self-deprecation.
Standing in repose, leaning to one side,
The soft voice, undemanding nature,
the undemonstrative affection –
memories remain of the times
spent together, good and bad
happy and sad.
Someone summed up your forty-four years,
” …..came in quietly
worked silently for two decades,
left just as quietly, few ripples…”.
Only the tidal wave of shock,
The tsunami of tears that followed
And devastated the small family
So contented till yesterday.
What do you say in farewell,
when you've shared-the first smoke and myriads later,
joys and discoveries of adolescence
books, meals, memories,
the first job,
the first motorcycle
the rigours of professional education
cups of chai and more potent brews.
His talent was unbounded, limited by his moods,
energy boundless, vision sweeping
repertoire ranging from tom jones to bhupen hazarika ( attested in person)
moods mercurial, voice mesmerizing
heart as big as a stadium (in his own words)
urge to embrace life in a bear hug
you could be angry at him, but not leave him
admire his talent, be mad at his fickleness
but never, ever forget him.
What can you say about a man
who loved and lived life king-size
and reveled in it
Farewell Somu, dear friend
may you compose and sing many more songs,
wherever large hearts take rest
and may your soul find peace.
It was toil all the way for you
Starting form adolescence
Through youth to middle age.
Everything that came your way
Was a result of dedication and toil,
Did that make you a cynic- never!
Did that account for your wry smile?
Just when you thought
“Now is the time to relax
to see the children flowering
the career to unfold
the toil to be rewarded”;
the grim reaper took you away.
Forty seven is no age to die
Of chicken pox
In the twenty first century!