My friend, wife and colleague
(at least, that is the order, in which I remember her)...
Looking back in time
I remember a person
who lived with an unmatched zest for life
and, when it became inevitable,
accepted her death with equal grace
..."as a part of the process"...
Geeta died of Cancer
on January 11th, 1998 at the age of 42
but left behind
a legacy of memories,
relationships,
her diaries
and her poems
and
other writings...
One of the poems, which she wrote in 1975 was about "Death":
And I look up at the trees, to find
A loving thought, a faceless name
Oft repeated in a fruitless game
With myself, with rules I have defined.
I am the night wind, I am sighing.
An unwanted, foresaken force,
Of a pain borne of lifeless chores
In a barren, cloudless sky I'm dying...
...In endless years an endless death,
Life being blown out breath by breath.
I still wonder, if this was a prophesy about what was to come...
a natural part of growing up, when so many of us see a part of ourself dying...
a brush with the proverbial Harlequin Complex...
a part of our joint script...
It will remain a mystery...
Constructing this site
was perhaps a psychological necessity.
In retrospect, it also became
an act of self-rediscovery and self-reconstruction, as
...page by page
...poem by poem
...story by story...
...I reconstructed and rediscovered
