Synopsis
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MY TEMPRARY
SON - AN orphan's journey.
A story like this – with so much of the writer in it – could easily
slip into the mawkish and the maudlin but Tim maintains dignity
in his prose while infusing it with a certain enchantment that
comes from his clear and beautiful language. THE HINDU.
And two writers map different landscapes of loss and love with
poignant and marvelously written memoirs: Joan Didion (Knopf)
in The Year of Magical Thinking and Timeri Murari with his tale
of losing an adopted child to another family in My Temporary Son
(Penguin India). WORLD BOOKS
Timeri Murari tells a sensitive, moving story in prose that is
spare and devoid of gimmick- and that is the book’s triumph. The
emotion is powerful for being understated, the confusion of a
60-year-old faced with feelings he never thought he had is touching
for being genuine. Lesser writers might have made a hash of this
experience, the temptation to overwrite is strong. Murari’s style
is at once concise and poignant. SAHARA TIMES
The book delights and saddens in turn. Murari and his wife provide
a firm presence as the baby Bhima suffers and triumphs; there
is pain in his surgery, his recovery, his first smile. His joy
in discovering rain. This is a tremendously powerful book, and
tragic, too, in its way. INDIAN EXPRESS
Believe me, I don’t feel ashamed to accept that I cried when I
was reading the last paragraphs of the chapter ‘The Final Goodbye’
in Timeri N Murari’s non fiction ‘My Temporary Son’. The fact
is that it is long since I was absolutely moved by a book. BOLOJI.COM
TRULY A LIFE-CHANGING EXPERIENCE.
Experiences are so often described as “life changing” that the
adjective seems clichéd, almost value less. But Timeri N. Murari’s
book MY TEMPORARY SON is about a true life-changing
experience – the story of a child bringing magic into two lives
and teaching lessons of resilience and love.
“It is a warm story of a little boy, an orphan with a fairly serious
health problem, who takes over the lives of an elderly, childless
couple who believe they have seen, done and experienced pretty
much everything.
“Tim and Maureen Murari are well settled into their respective
routines; he a writer of fixed, rather reclusive habits, and she
working with various charitable institutions and voluntary organisations.
On a trip to an orphanage, Maureen chances upon one-year-old Bhima,
a baby with impossibly large, expressive eyes, lying in an iron
cot banging his head against the bars to distract himself from
the pain in the raw, red mass of flesh on his lower body. And
she decides, as she has with other destitute children before,
to raise the funds for his operation and help place him with adoptive
parents abroad.
“For the first few months, Tim is just an observer of sorts, listening
and providing emotional support to Maureen as she gets into endless
rounds of consultations and tests with doctors and raises funds
to correct Bhima’s vesical exstrophy, a condition in which the
bladder is outside the body.
“Maureen brings Bhima home “for a few days” after surgery; to
recuperate till he is strong enough to resist the infections he
could catch in the orphanage. The few days turn into 11 months
as the Murari’s wait for Bhima’s adoptive parents from Europe
to plough through the paperwork demanded by the Indian adoption
system.
“And during that time, Bhima transforms Tim’s life, drawing him
out, teaching him to be a father. Tim and Maureen do as much for
Bhima – sitting through the night to comfort him when he experiences
night terrors, being attuned to his every mood, being there for
him – as he does for them.
“Though his early development was delayed because of his medical
condition, Bhima proves to be an exceptionally intelligent and
resilient child, capturing Tim’s and Maureen’s heart with his
simple faith, intense curiosity, mischievous ways and tin but
tremendous spirit for survival.
“Tim also uses the book to provide insights into Indian society;
he brings up ideas of karma and destiny, and the traditions, superstitions
and beliefs that are so much part of Indian life.
“Child labour, exploitation and discrimination, bureaucracy, the
education system, the almost-hopelessly convoluted adoption process…simple
statements, made almost in passing, reveal social attitudes to
all these and more.
“Finally, the mammoth Indian bureaucracy begins to move and Tim
and Maureen find themselves facing the idea of life without Bhima.
There is heartbreak but they have to confront the reality of their
age, Bhima’s future and what is best for him.
“A story like this – with so much of the writer in it – could
easily slip into the mawkish and the maudlin but Tim maintains
dignity in his prose while infusing it with a certain enchantment
that comes from his clear and beautiful language.
“It is also without explicitly being so, a story of many in India
and around the world who find it in themselves to open up their
lives and hearts to abandoned children and are willing to move
systems across continents in their willingness to love. THE
HINDU.
Timeri Murari tells a sensitive, moving story in prose that is
spare and devoid of gimmick- and that is the book’s triumph. The
emotion is powerful for being understated, the confusion of a
60-year-old faced with feelings he never thought he had is touching
for being genuine. Lesser writers might have made a hash of this
experience, the temptation to overwrite is strong. Murari’s style
is at once concise and poignant.
“The story is simple enough. An abandoned child, later named Bhima,
is taken from an orphanage for a rare surgery for which Murari’s
wife Maureen raises the funds. The surgery is successful, but
rather than send the boy back to the orphanage. The Murari’s decide
to let him recoup Hl their Chennai home. Bhima is not the first
'house guest' (as Murari refers to him initially). But he is special
for some reason, and the manner in which the little one shines
a torch on Timeri's soul and light up emotions hiding there is
the essence of the book. "He is your temporary son,"
says one of their friends and it is then' hat Timeri’s unspoken
wish is first articulated.
“Even for Maureen who is in touch with deep emotions within herself
the change brought about by Bhima is startling. 'Parenthood' for
the year that Bhima is with them brings with it all the doubts
and certainties that first-time parents less than half their age
live with. The Muraris cannot adopt Bhima because of the age difference
(the law states that the parents cannot be more than 45 years
older than the child).
“The story is as much Bhima's as it is the author's. Both while
showering the child with
love as well as when holding back in the cause of a greater love,
the Muraris show themselves to be a rare mix of the romantic and
the practical. They know that Bhima will soon have to leave, and
that his adoptive parents from Europe are only waiting for the
paper work to be cleared. So right from the start, Bhima is trained
to call the Muraris 'aunty' and 'uncle' so there is no confusion
with the 'papa' and 'mamma' to come. Love is as much about giving
as about holding back. Closure is important, but it is not easy.
“Certainly not after the kind of impact the child makes on their
lives. As Murari writes, "I hate being interrupted while
I am working. I try never to answer the phone and I ignore the
doorbell. At one time I would have snapped and snarled at anybody
who disturbed me. Now Bhima was teaching me things that work,
no matter how important cannot take precedence over a child's
demands and needs. I was acquiring a new skill - that of being
a. father. I was not used to it, to constant repetition and to
just as constantly admiring him as he practiced new skills time
and again and again. But I realized that every moment I spent
with Bhima is what Americans called 'quality time' his confidence
grew as he pushed at the boundaries of love surrounding him."
“We speak often about the loss of innocence that comes with age.
Children help us reconnect with our lost selves. But here was
a successful writer regaining innocence. The thought that such
a thing is possible is charming in itself; the idea that age is
no bar
There are too lovely vignettes of Chennai, of the memories that
Timeri has carried with him of his own childhood: of the work
done by Maureen and others like her who do good by stealth. But
it is the sheer intensity of ultimately hopeless unconditional
love that keeps a simple story from flagging or moving into areas
that are of no relevance
Murari has long talks with his temporary son, explaining everything
around him,
“It does not matter that the child does not understand; the exercise
is new to the temporary father, and he begins to understand himself
and his childhood better is doubly comforting.
“"In this long belated 'fatherhood'," writes Murari,
"I wanted Bhima to experience
everything I had as a child growing up in Madras, in this house.
I wanted to recreate
my childhood through him, as all fathers do, I assumed. It was
important for him to remember something more about India, than
the four walls of the orphanage that had contained him for so
long.”
“The irony is that while the 'father' was doing everything in
his power to erase from the child's mind the bad memories and
replace them with good ones and thus prepare him for a life beyond
the orphanage and Chennai, he himself was finding it increasingly
difficult to distance himself from the 'son' although he knew
that would be necessary. In the end all ironies and contradictions
dissolve in the ocean of love. Timeri Murari has written about
a dozen - works of fiction including the recently reissued Taj,
about half a dozen plays and a couple of films. His writings have
been marked by a detachment and attention to detail that only
the finest practitioners of the craft can bring to their work.
In taking the road from a professional detachment to an increasingly
inevitable attachment he brings to the surface in this book an
aspect of autobiographical writing that is both personal and universal
“At the end of it, the author who has lived most of his life abroad
is told that this is India and that with some sensible bribery
could have adopted Bhima ‘legally’. The reader is left to wonder
what might have been…SAHARA TIME.
Anyone with a child in their life, anyone who has ever longed
for a child and anyone, but anyone, who has ever been at the receiving
end of a child’s love will find something in this book. For even
the most cynical will not be moved by Timeri Murari’s true account
of caring for an orphaned and disabled child. Murari’s life took
on a new meaning when baby Bhima entered his life. At first it
was a nameless pair of deeply troubled eyes, a two-dimensional
image from a photograph that was taken in the orphanage to which
his parents, also nameless, had surrendered the child. A child
who left a profound impression in the precious 11 months during
which Murari became his father
“My Temporary Son is a thoroughly honest, self-scrutinizing and,
in places, brutal narrative. It documents young Bhima’s entrance
into a hard world, and the inordinate medical procedures he undergoes,
all the while following the author’s growing emotional attachment
to his ‘son’.
“Murari’s great skill lies in the way he encapsulates his love
for baby Bhima, not by wild, gut-wrenching emotive adjectives,
but by a pensive and almost introspective examination of his emotions,
creating g an altogether different but equally painful type of
tragedy.
“The author does not paint himself or his country as perfect.
Indeed, it illustrates the wretched bureaucracy that that forms
the basis of the adoptive process in India as both a curse and
a blessing. The circumstances which led Bhima into the arms of
Murari and his wife were far from easy and the author provided
no palliative in his portrayal of events.
“The book delights and saddens in turn. Murari and his wife provide
a firm presence as the baby Bhima suffers and triumphs; there
is pain in his surgery, his recovery, his first smile. His joy
in discovering rain. This is a tremendously powerful book, and
tragic, too, in its way. INDIAN EXPRESS
BELIEVE me, I don’t feel ashamed to accept that
I cried when I was reading the last paragraphs of the chapter
‘The Final Goodbye’ in Timeri N Murari’s non fiction ‘My Temporary
Son’. The fact is that it is long since I was absolutely moved
by a book; the books have been interesting, irresistible and engaging.
But this was one book, which does not belong to any of the above
category but still made me read.
“‘My Temporary Son’ is a real life narration of an aged couple
Tim and Maureen whose life suddenly takes a change with the temporary
entry of an abnormally sick, fragile orphan kid who had to undergo
series of serious surgeries for surviving. Anachronously, the
boy is named Bhima. The baby boy was born with his bladder outside
the abdomen and abandoned by its natural parents in an orphanage.
“Tim’s wife Maureen is a social worker who helps foreigners in
adoption and its systems. So it was not uncommon for the couple
to provide transit accommodation for the kids in their ancestral
palatial home at Chennai. Bhima’s entry is no different but a
little longer because of these medical interferences. Tim who
is generally indifferent to such short diversions was totally
drawn into the vortex of love and affection towards Bhima by a
chain of incidents. The childless ageing couple suddenly realizes
that their love for this boy was overwhelming because of this
baby’s pranks and quiet resilience to live notwithstanding the
oddities of fate during his stay in their home for the period
of eleven months. When the time comes for them to part with Bhima,
there was a cauldron of emotions. How Tim and Maureen overcome
because of their intense love for the kid forms the end of this
non fiction.
“‘My Temporary Son’ is in one way a linear narrative with tangential
paths. The book is not something, which one could complete just
in one sitting. Murari’s writing is just reliving of his whole
period of life from the birth of Bhima, the discard, entry, enjoyment
of his growth and exit. He takes us with him in his journey with
episodes strewn in between both relevant and irrelevant. They
include Murari’s childhood, growing, preferences, love affairs,
likes and dislikes, opinions, his family members, feuds, friendship,
happiness, frustrations and what not.
“The book also describes the most convoluted procedure of adoption
and the exasperating rules and regulations prevailing in India.
It projects the shocking state of the orphaned children in our
country, apathy of the officials, indifference of the public,
concern on the ever enlarging population, above all the deplorable
conditions of living in India irrespective of one’s financial
background. The book may be a useful guide for those who want
to adopt a kid from India (will anyone after reading this book?)
with the model legal documents and procedures as Appendices.
“Timeri Murari’s language alternates between simple and complex.
This is probably because of its spontaneity. The emotions are
brutally honest and painfully straightforward. The characters
Tim, Maureen, Bhima, Sarala, Shaila, the lovable adopting couple
Bettina and Karl and their family communicate and interact with
the reader in flesh and blood through the pages of the book. One
cannot but empathize them very honestly.
“Tim writes ‘… that love had more substance and sustenance than
food and drink; it was the buoy that had kept them afloat in the
freezing waters of old age’.
“I am sure after reading the book one will agree that this statement
holds good at any age of a true human. BOLOJI.COM
AUTHOR, journalist, playwright and filmmaker
Timeri N. Murari has played a lot of roles in life. But perhaps
one that he did not bargain for was the cause of a lot of heartache.
In a cathartic way, resulting in his latest book, MY TEMPORARY
SON, as much about adoption as about learning to be a
father.
“Chennai-based Murari and his wife Maureen have assisted in a
number of adoptions over the years from the city, while remaining
childless themselves. And before going to their adoptive homes,
many of these kids have also stayed in their home for a while.
So when Bhima came along, Murari had no idea that things would
be different this time.
“Bhima, born to a rural family in Pondicherry, had vesical exstrophy,
or was born with his bladder outside the body. Abandoned by his
parents, he was in an orphanage when Maureen spotted him and began
the process to get him operated to relive him of his constant
misery. And after the operation, she brought him home to recuperate
before he went to his adoptive home.
“And it was while he was staying there that Bhima made such a
place in Murari’s heart that he was tempted to adopt Bhima himself.
Except for that he was 60 years older than Bhima, and adoption
would create many complications, both for him and for Bhima in
future. But that is what the head said.
“The heart was on a different track. “I had to confront myself,”
says Murari. “A child changes your life, I learnt about being
a father, it was almost slammed into me. Bhima, had ‘special’
needs in one respect, but was extremely intelligent,” he reminisces,
eyes looking somewhere into the past. “Bhima brought home the
meaning of the word, ‘the child is the father of the man’. For
at one level I was learning to be a father. I was literally learning.”
“And there were many aspects that became clearer to the author,
the father, the individual. Children are low priority in an adult
controlled world. Adoption in India is an extremely strenuous
process, and despite people wanting to adopt from India, many
do not do as bureaucratic hurdles are too long.
“Bhima was adopted by a couple from a European country, by which
time he was already two years old. When they adopted their second
child, they did so from South Africa, and despite having to furnish
similar documents and guarantees, they completed the process in
three months. “There is an urgent need to speed up the process
of adoption in India,” says Murari. By the time the formalities
are completed, the child has already undergone much pain and neglect,
and has become institutionalised. He has had no relationship,
and this has a profound impact. “About 150-200 children are adopted
from India, mostly children with special needs. Indians prefer
to adopt health children, as a special-needs child comes along
with additional medical burdens. However, many prefer adopting
from countries like Korea, or those in Latin America as the process
is much faster,” he laments.
“Bhima has found a home, and has the luxury of having adoptive
parents who love him, and people like Murari who desperately wanted
to make him a permanent part of their lives.
“Most orphans have to contend with the opposite conditions, something
Murari has poignantly, transparently captured in MY TEMPORARY
SON, which you will find difficult to read without a
lump developing in your throat. BUSINESS TIMES
IF you are the one to cry with an author as you
read his book, this one is definitely recommended. A heart rendering
tale of how the author became a father for the first time at 60
when an orphan gate crashed into his life and changed it forever.
“A contented elderly man, Tim's life transformed when a thin and
sickly child Bhima entered his home thanks to his wife Maureen.
Since his wife is involved in social work, he dismisses this new
entry as a temporary arrangement. But the truth is far from it.
Bhima demands attention and the author learns to be a father and
enjoys it. As you start enjoying their relationship, the truth
jolts you as you come to know that the author and his wife cannot
adopt Bhima's as they are too old. He is given up for adoption
and meeting the adoptive parents is anything but painful. The
gradual handover of Bhima and his adjustment to his new parents
is heartbreaking and you identify with the author's pain. Not
only is it an inspiring book that makes you believe in selfless
service, it is also a great way to understand the complicated
adoption process in India. The eyes on the cover page of the book
tell a tale of its own and the author takes you along on his journey
of suddenly discovering fatherhood and losing it immediately too.
“The author uses simple yet effective words to convey the emotional
turmoil that he and his wife undergo in eleven months. His faith
and belief in Bhima and his feeling of incompetence when he doesn't
understand how to handle a child seems to be true for every new
father. The end of the book is particularly heart wrenching. The
impossibility of the situation frustrates you and the author and
his wife's commitment to Bhima's welfare is baffling. He ends
the book saying 'Bhima was meant to have an enchanted life and
for us, it was a closure of sorts. We knew there would never be
total closure, not until we die, or love does.' Words that speak
beyond their meaning. AFTERNOON, BOMBAY.
NOT everyone has it in him to adopt a child and
treat the child as one would one’s own. But people capable of
such love do exist and make up for a miniscule fraction of the
world. Timeri Murari’s personal experiences bring these peripheral
people in focus.
“Up until such time that Bhima, an abandoned baby with vesical
extrophy (a state when the bladder is outside the body) came into
Tim’s life, his world was systematic with little room for deep
emotions. Tim has been a journalist with the Guardian and has
written novels, screenplays and stage plays. His film, The Square
Circle, made it to Time’s list of 10 best films. With so much
happening in his life, Tim could not have been bothered by his
wife’s efforts to bring home Bhima for better care after a corrective
surgery.
“Tim wasn’t new to having babies in his huge ancestral Madras
home as his wife, associated with the Overseas Women’s Club, would
often get orphanage babies, signed up for adoption, to their house
before they would leave for their respective homes abroad.
“In Bhima’s case, it turned out to be a bonding he wasn’t quite
ready for. Tim says: "I was a contented elderly man, not
looking to be immersed in any emotional cauldrons...and then,
unexpectedly, Bhima came along, skewing all my calculations."
“Used to constant pain and alien to a tender touch, Bhima gradually
learns to love and trust Tim and Maureen. His sparing but gentle
kisses change Tim who, perhaps for the first time in his life,
regrets being at the wrong side of 60. His longing to adopt Bhima
leaves him restless and in the 11 months that the little boy is
with them, Tim fears his home and life would never be the same.
Bhima’s impending adoption by a European couple looms large and
with it grows his desperation to keep his “temporary son”.
“Childless himself, Tim bares his heart and one knows why he chose
to write this novel— to let his feelings flow unhindered; they
needed expression. Tim reaches the pinnacle of pain on his parting
with Bhima. How he tries to adapt to the vacuum and his subsequent
visit to Bhima’s new home makes up for the latter part of the
book.
“That it is an exceptional and an emotional book goes without
saying, but what it does to you is worse. It leaves you with a
feeling of being an inferior human. There are people, including
foreigners, who eagerly adopt babies with deformities or those
with special needs and give them utmost love and a comfortable
home. Our own insufficiencies show up sharper in contrast. TRIBUNE.
LETTERS
Dear Mr. Murari,
i would like to thank you so much for writing my temporary son,
for me it is the best book i have ever read
i am Austrian and i have bought a copy in Sri Lanka on my holiday
there,
at the moment i am living in Abu Dhabi and i am looking forward
to buy more of your work when i am going to London next month
to visit my (real) son.
Thank you!
Best regards
Marie Vrba
P. S. I admire your wife Maureen for what she is doing
Hello,
Just wanted to commend you on
your beautiful book "My Temporary Son", I am on pg.153
and am enjoying every word of it. Not only is the story of Bhima
so heartwarming, but I also find I am enjoying reading about Madras,
a city I had the good fortune to live in, in the early '90's.
I'm very glad I came across your
book, I am going to pass the word around,
Regards,
Angelique of Lotus Reads
Hey Tim
I cant stop to be amazed with
your book 'My Temporary Son.' There are no words to express how
i feel yet i will try. Like everyone else I would appreciate your
commendable act of looking after Bhima because i know it isnt
easy. and i understand the attachment you feel for him.
I am in touch with a home in
Asangaon in Mumbai wherein children with AIDS are nursed. One
such baby there was eight month old Joy who was found on the railway
tracks when he was just three months old. He was brought to the
home and was named Joy because he had an enchanting smile. When
i met him I could not believe someone would actually desert him.
He tested positive for HIV but was so cheerful and unaware of
his condition. I heard later that he had passed away in the company
of all the staff and other children. I cannot forget his smile.
God bless him. Bhima reminded me of Joy and I am glad that Bhima
found you.
Kudos to Maureen who is so compassionate
and loving. I would really want to meet the both of you if and
when you come to Mumbai. I am a Reporter with the Afternoon newspaper
in Mumbai and generally review books because i love reading them.
My Temporary Son moved me to tears and I am glad you wrote it.
Take very good care of yourselves
and keep writing!
Lots of warm regards
Tina Aranha
sir
I have read your books. first
I read a book on Taj and I liked it very
much. your style is really heart touching. I like the character
of Murty and
silently suffering of Issa.
another book "My temporary
son" brought tears to my eyes. how minutely you
have observed the toddler's behaviour. the backbone of this book
is Maureen
who gave this lucky or unlucky child so much tender and abandunce
love.
is it a true story? the description of Chennai and Pondechari
is really
interesting to a person like me who is not a chennaite. my daughter
stays in
thiruvanmiyur very close to cheshire home. I have come to visit
her and
spend time with my two little grandchildren. i am going back to
Mhow near
Indore in MP where we have settled down. my husband has retired
from the
army. he is also very fond of reading. we would love to meet you
and
Maureen in a very close future. please let us know.
looking forward to read some more books written by you.
Prabha Joshi
Dear Tim
Thank you so much for sparing us a precious copy of the book,
and also for the inscription ( which I hadn't seen when you handed
it over!) I read the book from cover to cover when I was in Wales,
and it was an immensely rewarding experience. Being able to use
the wonderful photograph you gave us of you and Maureen with Anhil
as a bookmark brought a unique and special addition to the experience.
I had not realised the degree of autobiography - and I must say
you have chosen an extraordinarily vivid context for your thoughts,
reminiscences about your life before and with Maureen, and comments
and insights into the bewilderments of India.
You and Maureen have poured so much compassion and love into the
special kind of adoption you have been undertaking over the past
years. I do hope that your extended family network will remain
strong and supportive in the years to come. It's the very least
you deserve. Everything you tell me about your'children' will
take on a new significance and dimension now that I have read
the book. I hope it does get published outside India, but whether
it does or doesn't I for one am very glad you wrote it, and I
hope you and Maureen are too.
Michael Houldey
Hi Tim
Just a note to say Thank you for a copy of your book, especially
that it was signed.
I read it from cover to cover and actually finished it a while
ago. I could not put it down. You have had me crying and laughing
out loud on the tube to and from work. Not sure what the other
passengers thought!
It was fantastic, moving and so well written. I am just sorry
I havn't thanked you earlier. We have had a busy few weeks as
Rich had a major University assignment to hand in. Thankfully
it is finished now! Now we can get on and concentrate on the wedding.
Thank you so much again. Rich is reading it next, now he has a
break from University books.
Love
Georgina (Herridge)
Dear Mr. Murari,
I read My Temporary Son: An Orphan's
Journey and found it's later pages gut
wrenching, heart rendering and physically discombobulating as
I acutely felt
that partings aren't always such sweet sorrow. Thank you for writing
this
book and sharing your experiences.
I came upon the
book by accident in mall's bookstore early this month in
Bombay where I grew up, but have lived in the NYC area for over
28 years. I
bought it since I'd attended an Indian adopted child's baby shower
in NYC.
Very recently I've been the language interpreter during it's speech
therapy
evaluation for early intervention.
Ravi Bhasin
Dear Timeri Murari,
After eagerly anticipating your book since pre-publication, my
cousin finally brought it back from India and I finished reading
it in one go. I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your
book. I was born in the U.S. but my parents are from Madras, so
I enjoyed learning more about my India. Also, I have adopted two
daughters from Pune. I have little information about their beginnings,
and your book helped me imagine how much they were also loved
by those who cared for them. Bhima/Anhil is so lucky to have so
much of his past preserved in you and your wife. Thank you for
writing such a beautiful book.
Sincerely,
Usha Rengachary
Your browser may not support display of this image.
Dear Mr.Murari,
Just completed reading your book,"My
Temporary Son"-- one of the most moving books,
capturing in print those fine and elusive feelings so
palpably.As a person who has lost a beloved pet just 4
months ago and who has had an almost similar
experience as yours with Bima, several years ago, I
could empathise with your book. Several Years ago, my
brother and sister-in -law sent their 6 week old son
to India from the US as they were finding it difficult
to bring up a baby along with all their commitments.
My parents and I (aged 16then) brought him up with the
greatest love and affection. But all the time we knew
that one day he would go away--which he did when his
Parents sent for him just a few days before his 2nd
birthday. The pain that we experienced at the very
same Madras airport was very similar to your own in
the book. Now I'm almost 50 and my nephew, whom i've
not seen since the last 15 years is almost 34 years
old. The tragedy is that he does not remember us at
all.
These experiences of mine I thought were
obliterated from my mind for good until your book
reopened them...that is great literature I
guess...hence this mail...just to let you know that i
enjoyed your book.
with regards,
Padmaja Ashok
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