When I was at Yaddo one summer, I painted this for my wife because I was missing our wedding anniversary. I wanted to tell her that I loved her and missed her. To be honest, I was afraid that she would be pissed. A somewhat typical plot line, I realise, but often our lives run along conventional tracks.I once asked one of my early heroes, Hanif Kureishi, whether he wanted to go to a writing residency. No, he said, I’d miss my kids too much.
On the night before I went to Yaddo the first time, my son, who must have been five or six at that time, climbed inside my open suitcase. He fitted quite easily into it. Take me with you, he said. Words come at a price.
Text Amitava Kumar