By Himalayan Tenzin - Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Four days ago, Gabriel Garcia Marquez passed away ( 1927 – April 17, 2014 ). I confess I am little slow in expressing instinctive sentiments immediately. Metaphorically, knee jerk reaction is less practical in me. Sadness didn't take me over as it ought to when I entered an obituary note in the memorandum.

Only when I tried to remember my first encounter later, strong fits of nostalgia gripped me. Something invaluable within me seems to tear apart on losing him. Certain yet undefined intimacy exists between the great and me; little more than the ordinary relation between a writer and the reader. I'll put it as brotherhood bonded by literature.

To review his work “Love in The Time of Cholera” at my tenth was an honour for which do I was on top in the book review contest. Anyone could have been me then had they only preferred the book for the material. My win was just a matter of first come first serve. The beauty of the style and irresistible romance in the content will justify my say if you care to read. Luck had me so I’d the book then.
                                                                       Gabo Marquez
It’s bit harsh a reality to accept a world with all the beautiful writers being flown away someday and the other. It creates a void in literary world in fact.

Now that Gabo had passed away, only his immortal works in the medium of magical letters shall remain souvenir to all his readers to whom he communicated. And each time henceforth, I flip the perfumed leaves of his book, I am sure I would be able to summon the same beauty he crafted with extraordinary intellect and immense delicacy.  

He’s the one who filled ink in my pen and gave me the spectacle to read further. I owe him infinite.

Rest in peace Dear Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

With love and loyalty
Sonam Tenzin

( 21st April, Monday) 

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