Elegy for a travel agent, Mr. Anup Nair
Scatter my ashes by the Taj Mahal,
where the marble glows, quiet, unbreakable,
even in the midday heat. Let me become
part of something that waits and stays.
Take a handful of me to the Gateway of India
where the sea is restless, a lung filling,
emptying, filling again. Where the salt air
lingers, lifting and carrying,
as if it knows how we all need to be
a little lighter, a little freer in the wind.
At Amer Fort, find me in the sunburnt walls,
The silence and patience, of the desert.
I’d like to be small and steady there,
to learn how sandstone holds its ground.
And then the Elephanta Caves, deep
in the shadows of carved gods,
that are only gods because they remember
how to stand in darkness
how to turn from stone into light,
forever shifting, forever constant.
In Old Delhi, slip me into the market air,
among the smells and colours and the heat,
Stop for a moment by Jama Masjid,
so you can lose yourself in the hum of it all,
a city of voices holding its breath —
every hope and prayer, floating up
past the minarets,
going somewhere I’ll never know.
Let me drift to the surface of Nigeen Lake,
like lilies pressing up,
pushing against still water, trying to meet
the mountains that lean in close
Just a part of me, resting
where the world is small and the sky is wide.
Finally, to the Arabian Sea, let me drift out—
where every wave is both departure and return,
and begin again, like everything we are—
every lost thing, set free, coming home.
and when the dawn comes, I’ll be there – quiet,
not gone, exactly—just everywhere I wanted to be.
Written by Neel Chaudhuri in memory of Anup Nair ( A Travel professional extraordinaire).
