Rooh (Hardcover, Manav Kaul)

When I arrived in Kashmir, completely naive, to write this book, I saw only dry, stony ground, a place where writing of any kind was impossible. But walking those rugged paths, beneath every stone I turned, I saw life, moisture, and love. I havent shied away from anything. I keep recording what is, the life I want to see. Sometimes I feel like I wanted to write about my father and wrote Kashmir, but when I sat down to write Kashmir, I saw my father. All my memories are from a time when we could touch things. I could touch my father, his rough beard, the window of the house, the sky visible from the window, the pot, the kangri. Now, in this changing world, all those old things are slipping from my hands. Along with those things, I feel like Im losing myself too. These days, every new thing I touch comes with the dust of its own strangeness. No matter how much I dust off, I find a sense of belonging in those old things. But when I sit down to write about them, I cant believe they were part of my life in this very lifetime.From the books introduction