Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri

For Sharmila Tagore, On Your Birthday

Another year turns, quietly, like a page
you might pause over,
words waiting, worlds unfolding.

How many such worlds you have given us.
Aparna’s calm light in Apur Sansar
Dayamayee’s trembling grace,
Aditi watching a star unravel on an overnight journey,
Champa laughing into the Kashmiri wind.

Deepa, Suzy switching lives in mid-song,
Vandana humming her way through heartbreak,
Anupama’s hush louder than any dialogue,
Kajli gathering autumn’s fragile hopes,
Nimki stitching warmth into nameless days,
Mrs Sen walking through memory as if it were home.

Characters who stayed, unhurried,
long after the credits dimmed.
Characters that made room in us
for tenderness, for thought,
for the small astonishments of being human.

And then there is my quiet, personal gratitude —
eighteen years of conversations
that wander as freely as monsoon breezes:
books argued over, films relived,
life’s errant questions welcomed with your smile.
A companionship made of
laughter, candour, and the comfort
of feeling understood.

So here’s wishing you a day
as effortlessly luminous
as the worlds you have shaped,
and a year that drifts in gently,
with warmth, smiles, and a touch of adventure.

Thank you, for all the light.