Suman Kalyanpur (1937-2026): A Serene, Enchanting Star in the Sky of Melody
Today, the world of music feels a little more silent. A gentle, lucid and humble voice has fallen quiet forever.
Today, the world of music feels a little more silent. A gentle, lucid and humble voice has fallen quiet forever.
Some deaths arrive as news. This one arrived as silence, in the exact place where a voice used to live.
We are living in the golden age of authorship. Everyone is now a writer. We are writing bios, poems, how-to guides, and, of course, aggressive complaints against whomever we wish to.
There are those who love to be photographed. You can find them “photo bombing” frames where they have no business to be in. But they are there, smiling sheepishly.
A friend had invited me for dinner to his house. I went over around 7:30 in the evening. We gossiped for about an hour and then sat down for dinner.
I usually take my walk by the sea every day, and I often stop at a small park overlooking the water to enjoy the view.
The sun seems to be taking a day off, hiding beneath a heavy gray canopy that has settled over Monopoli like a mood. The sky is so dense and colorless that even the land below appears infected by its melancholy. The sea, too, has changed its attire.
Shaking hands with a certain Salil Chowdhury and donating a small sum for his charity event became one of the most cherished moments of my life…later. I was a kid then and did not realise whom I was sharing the stage with.
What does a city lose when its monuments fall silent, their stones eroded, their stories forgotten? It loses not merely architecture, but memory itself—and with it, a measure of its soul.
She is called the “iron lady of India.” But when did Indira Gandhi show the real steel in her?? Was it the day she won the war and split Pakistan into two or the day the Janata Party Government came to arrest her or the day she decided to impose emergency?
