a note to an old friend
28 September, 2020
Today, I tried to write a farewell letter. A letter, to an old friend.
I wanted to write –
“Dear Friend,
I am leaving for now. I hope you will repair your home beyond the walls and I hope, in it, you will find yourself a place to live in. In it, you will find yourself again.
when I reached his house, it was raining like no man’s business. I realized, even 150 odd kilometres makes me a bit tired these days. But then again, this was a long-planned-never-realized meeting. We were excited to see each other, to share our stories again. I was happy for us. I remember hugging each other after a long time - as if almost an era. But did you sense something was missing? I wonder what it was. But I kept my trust, for the sake of us.
Those old rooms, that we sat together in, talking for hours about all things earthy, were made of shards of rock, rubble, pebbles and stones. As hours passed, I began noticing that those pieces of stones had fallen off, and we were, after years, looking for them.
The next day, you took me out to those abandoned mines close to your place. You were telling me tales of how the locals here have embraced the capricious earth. Trust me, I was scared to see the smoke coming out of the cracks of the land.
Do you remember having told me stories of the fire under this land, how it burns to turn all lives to ashes? And how sudden erosions take lives that depend on it, away? You left me wondering -
Why do they build their houses here? Do they last?
How do they sleep at night? Do they dream?
Do you remember how we were calling each other inside those big relinquished houses to make sure we were not lost?
I know we are still searching for those pieces of stone that our room was made of. Where we could sit and talk for hours. Trust me, we will repair our room and make sure our memories are well kept. I hope you find stones to build your home again, too.”
Concept and photographs by Ritam Nandy
Text development by Alisha Das
