My Aamy.....

It’s a huge shock.. My Aamy is no more. She has left this world forever.

I had started to hear more about her when I was doing my graduation. I had been an Anglo kid till then. I never used to read any Malayalam Literature. It was always English. I used to read English, write in English, laugh in English, think in English and even dream in English. But Amy changed it. No, not Aamy. She was Kamala Das for me then. I happened to see some of her English poems, and flat I fell in love with her words… I became an instant admirer. During my post graduation, I was on cloud nine when I had to learn “My Story” as a detailed text (which was not taught in a detailed manner in a conservative convent college). I read and read and embossed each word in my mind. It was my own feelings and frustrations that I saw in her works. I found many answers in her sentences.

My library began to fill with her books. My quest took me to Madhavikutty, and thus to her Malayalam works. I bought two English copies of “My Story”, and a Malayalam copy too. My friends used to laugh at my madness. The fragrance of her ancestral home with the trees and flowers and the pond intoxicated me. The conflicts of hidden emotions and her confession gave me confidence. There was a time when I had tried to see myself in her. She was an Arien, so am I... Shouldn’t we be alike? Her longing for love and her frustrations against the restrictions touched my heart. The musings of a lonely heart triggered my imagination.

I wanted to meet her in person. She had become someone very close to my heart. I started referring her as Aamy, just as her nears and dears did. She was no more a stranger to me. She was my guiding light, my unseen source of confidence. The courage she showed when she had converted herself, and her beloved Krishna to Islam thrilled me. I knew it was for love she did that.

The longing to meet her had intensified. But so was the fear… the fear of disappointment. What if she was a complete different person in real life? So the delay came. And now, when I was all ready to meet her, she left to Pune. One of my friends who is a close friend of her had promised me that once she comes back, he will introduce her to me. I was waiting for that. I was dreaming of making her write a foreword for a book which I will be writing before I disappear from this world.


But now, Aamy is gone.. she left this world without giving me a chance to meet her. I love you Aamy.. You will always remain fresh in my heart.. You will always be my invisible inspiration. You will always be…………..