I dreamed of you last night.

It's been almost nine years since we walked down the hill and endlessly along the sandy beach, punctuated by pauses under the casuarina trees.

Nine years since we sat under a starry night in the comfort of each other's deafening silence, punctuated only by the sound of the waves.

I don't recall specifics of our endless conversations, but I recall how you mentored me to look at my designs not as a built form but as an extension of me.

I know it to be true that my desire to be part of unconventional settings, such as in rural Bihar today, outside the context of an architecture studio, is a tributary of the thought process you nurtured nine years ago.

This morning, as I walked down a corridor of a government hostel for boys, and amidst laughter with friends and colleagues, I thought of you - replaying in my mind, how you may have walked down a similar corridor, the morning you said goodbye to us from the ceiling fan.

Still miss you. Shantam.