My uncle passed away. We hadn't met or spoken to for a long time. I didn't realise how much he had influenced or impacted my writing and academic journey.
He taught Sociology at Mumbai University. When I look back now, it was his interest in Weber and Durkheim and Marx that I carried forward to college when I, too, majored in the subject. When I stayed with him in Matunga, he would ask me to write a story or an essay or summarize an article in the newspaper. In return I would get candy or he would take me for a walk to Five Gardens. His birthday was a day after mom's. So we would often have a combined celebratory dinner. Just a few days before Diwali, I had gone to Dadar and everything about that place, reminded me of the UDCT days.
He always read my blog and told me to compile my pieces and publish my book.
Now that I think about it, apart from my grandfather, he was the only other person who thought I had mettle as a writer after critical review. (The others thought I was good maybe out of love...or my mom made them.)
Rest in peace, Mota mausa. My life has been more purposeful because of the things you taught me.
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