Date: 22 June 2010
Place: Mumbai, India
This is my first letter to you. I know you can never read this, nor this would be ever posted, but I want to say a lot of things to you. When a person dies he merges with the elements. My words once said will become free merging with the elements.. hence writing to you..
First I have a complaint, why did you die so early in life when you could write more and we have lost the great stories which could have come from your pen. You had a most beautiful way of looking at the world creating stories just out of the air, through random conversations, road side incidents, overhearing someone talk, or observing some stranger for some time. I just feel you could have been loyal to your readers if not anyone because I for sure want more of your stories and I feel that the void you have left is still empty and no one has been able to come even close to you. I wanted to come meet you, talk to you, ask you things about your writing, know more about you, what you thought, what you did, how you got an idea of a story, how you wrote one, did you ever edit it or they just came perfect from the word ‘go’.
Second why did you let these religious zealots and fanatics affect you, they criticized you and you took it to heart. You should have let them say what they wanted but you should have kept on writing, giving them answers through your writing. You never cared what people said – in fact you loved when they hated you – giving a sort of power to your inner self, making you do better & best so why them. How could they out of all the people, could bring you down? Actually they did not, you yourself did that.
Thirdly they say that ‘Misery is the fuel to the fire of an artist’ but if it is uncontrollable then this fire leads to devastation and that is what happened in your case. I wish you knew where you were heading to.. but alas you could not see any other way and went where the straight road led to. You immersed yourself in liquor to be able to keep your mind off the harsh realities. You knew death was close & hence you wrote all those things to your readers & your epitaph.
This is all for now and my mind is thinking what more I can complain of. Its not as if I have only complaints from you, hidden in them are my regrets of being able to say better things to you. But can’t help it want to say, the rude things first. Will write to you again for sure and hopefully something positive.
May you live forever!!