Ode to Rasheid

Morning breaks, the day cool, fractured sun rays glint through jambur trees, our packs are filled with poras and tomato sandwiches.
The enticing day unfolds.

I see you again, a child, forging ahead as we follow a woody winding Matheran path, knee length short pants displaying wiry legs, rough hewn stick in hand, swinging away at imaginary dragons, walking in a world yours alone.

Last year at Aksa, your seaside resort, a welcome respite for stressed nurses and abandoned orphans, I listened to your sermon, not fire and brimstone, but quietly seeking God’s grace to make us whole again.

Your fine aura enveloped a noble spirit dedicated to changing the tilt of lost people and forgotten causes, rising above petty conspiracies, the thoughtless deed, striving to, in your own words, overcome "the evil of things.”

Even your excesses were frugal — pomfret, one scoop of ice cream and Sosyo, your favorite soft drink.

Perhaps the cries of the lost had submerged the thousand sounds of laughter of which you were the cause. You came home last night and locked the door and put out the light forever, invoking the mysteries of life and death.

Oh why did you not turn to us, your friends and beloved ones?
We would have warmed your breath and stroked alive your sobbing heart.

May the stars alight softly upon your gentle soul. DEENAZ P. COACHBUILDER
Riverside, California, USA

[Rasheid Taleyarkhan shot himself on September 3, 2014 (See "Taleyarkhan’s tragic end,” Events and Personalities, Parsiana, September 21, 2014)]