kindness was your first name and i cannot think of any that could have better described you when we first met i knew only your most famous poem about the construction worker who carried on her back the burden of her own mortality you wrote in the first person and i asked why you’d chosen a feminine voice and you said with a twinkle of pleasure that no one had ever asked this before but perhaps the answer was that when you wrote of the misery of the poor and the oppressed the image that first came to you was of your mother in the village you had left a hundred, perhaps a thousand years behind now i am comfortable, even happy, you said with your sad eyes and your shy smile i can eat with you in your house with confidence but memories of childhood are never far and it is always mother i remember we were untouchables then and our shadow was not permitted to fall on those who considered us as such father was an alcoholic and mother slaved to bring us up it is she who had no voice whose voice i now hear as you spoke there was no anger in you no trace of self-pity only compassion for the suffering of a mother who had become the whole human race.
– Anand Patwardhan
Written for poet Daya Pawar who passed away in 1996. (Daya means ‘kindness’ in Hindi.)