When I first met Geeta... the images I can now conjour up are...
a bundle of raw nerves...
trying to move out of - desperate to escape - a world which she felt responsible for and yet, which was also her prison...
full of nameless fears...often plagued by self-doubts...
sometimes resentful of the injustice of it all...
often startled by her own inner life -
and yet a valiant effort to flap the wings and fly...
But she had mastered
the art of managing a coherent public self...
perhaps much too coherent.
I remember describing her in my diary
as a person with "something as cold as steel in her"
she didn't like it when she read it later -
...it wasn't entirely true either)...
...because underlying this veneer - even below those self-deprecating doubts - was a self
which was intensely independent...
with a depth and insight of feelings...
....which was romantic in a very classical sense,
which had the seeds which would unfold into a person sensitive to hurts and pain, because she had gone through it all.
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