Page 218 - Musings 2020

stories and interesting anecdotes about Rabindranath’s life. When I read aloud some pieces of
literature he had never come across, Zakhir's eyes started to water up.

Then suddenly he hugged me tightly, as if seemingly desperate for a connection. “Sir,” he
exclaimed, “if someone were to truly love Rabindranath, would it be possible for him to
operate on dead bodies and sell their body parts? Could one ever have such a contradictory
personality?”

“Absolutely not, Zakhir,” I said, “it makes no sense to me, and neither should it to anyone
else. I never believed in these wild rumours to start with. Rest assured if I did, I wouldn’t be
enjoying this lovely night at your house.”

The next morning, as I gathered my belongings in preparation for my journey back home,
Zakhir ushered me to the door. Joyful and at complete ease around me, he hugged me once
again and whispered in my ear, “Don’t harbour an iota of worry, sir: I’ll show her true
respect. I’ll be the perfect gentleman. I’ll wash her gently and recite poems by Rabindranath
that I love to her.”

“Who is she, Zakhir? I don’t quite understand. Who are you going to respect and who are you
going to read to?”
“I’m quite glad you asked, sir!”
“Sir, your magnificent corpse!”

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