By Sreepriya Menon
Dedicated to Raghuram Ramachandran who was my brother and mentor, in life as in writing.
Of all the tales I ever read,
Given by you, I’ve always kept,
Close to my heart, the world of magic,
And wished it true so hard, it’s almost tragic.
Dreams, music and a whole world of stories
I recovered from you, a gift greedily consumed.
Now that you’ve made a home for yourself in memories
People like me hoard u up, as we never assumed,
What the life gives and takes away,
Is seldom treasured when it’s close at bay.
You are a creature of night no more,
You are now as I’ve seen you before,
You are an illuminating patronus washed ashore
On the waters of irksome dark voices galore.
Your presence a balm on the bothered mind,
Sometimes to goad to action when fear blinds
One of those beacons that fires up the night
For wanderers often trying to find
Some reason, some magic, music or sorrow.
To sing out to wayfarers, some pain to borrow.
Laughing out loud, you’re amused at the ruckus
Created down here upon your birth soil
Yet unaware of what you left is a wreck of us.
Touching every life passed by was your toil.
You made dreams come true
And some screams left unheard too,
And the theme of all things has come to bloom anew.
You being you, even tears withdrew.
People who knew, remembered what you eschew
Regrets, guilt, fear of unknown they threw.
Now everyone shares the vision you saw,
And some secrets you left, left us all in the thaw.
There are books yet to be read,
And people more to be met
There are poems to write and share
And rhythms of life unearthed and laid bare
Stories and stories to be lived and told.
Yet, you’ve left it to me
To pick a happy memory
And summon you to be
With me, as my patronus, for all eternity.