It's been years and yet every time I see a full moon I am reminded of our conversation long ago. It was May.. around the time of your birthday.. We just managed to sneak in a telephone call somehow while we were both busy preparing for the counting of votes on the following day.. Now when I think of it I am convinced I must have called to wish you on your birthday. But I do not remember exactly. What I remember is that you noticed the roosting call of the peacocks on my end. And asked me to send you a picture. And since those were early days when camera phones clicked hazy pictures, I brought out my bulky DSLR. (And you were terribly happy with the shots when I must have sent them much later.) And it was our small moment of shared joy while we lived in two different world miles apart. In the madness that pervades election season in this country, hanging around with a friend (even if on a phone call, and there were no video calls then) was a stolen luxury.
I can no longer send the moon pics to you. And moon continues to fascinate me as ever. Yet having lived through more than 400 full moons in my life, nothing compares to the memory of that day etched in that pic. We never knew it would be the first and the last Lok Sabha election for both of us- but for different reasons.
I have learnt to appreciate the beauty of moon (and everything big and small) not knowing what tomorrow might bring. I see moon when the faces' of my children light up upon seeing me.. I see moon when a lone bulb (yet to be replaced by CFL) lights up a long winding street.. I see moon in rivers, and lakes and puddles reflecting glimmers of light from insignificant sources.. And I have also learnt meanwhile, however bright and resplendent the sun may shine, it is no match for the serene beauty of moon.
Remember you just as fondly each day,
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