Remembering Anup Nair, an inspiration for Indian tourism

One of the veterans of the Inbound Industry handed away not too long ago from a brief wrestle with most cancers. Anup Nair’s contribution to the business as an expert and in varied positions notably because the president of SiTE was certainly inspirational.  As the Managing Director of Inspiration India, he’s identified for creating and delivering world-class incentive journey packages. This is a brief elegy in reminiscence of Shri Anup Nair – (A Travel skilled extraordinaire) by Shoba Rudra.

In reminiscence of Anup Nair – (A Travel skilled extraordinaire)

For Anup Nair…

Scatter my ashes by the Taj Mahal,
the place the marble glows, quiet, unbreakable,
even within the noon warmth. Let me turn into
a part of one thing that waits and stays.

Take a handful of me to the Gateway of India
the place the ocean is stressed, a lung filling,

emptying, filling once more. Where the salt air
lingers, lifting and carrying,
as if it is aware of how all of us should be
a little bit lighter, a little bit freer within the wind.

At Amer Fort, discover me within the sunburnt partitions,
The silence and endurance, of the desert.

I’d prefer to be small and regular there,
to learn the way sandstone holds its floor.

And then the Elephanta Caves, deep
within the shadows of carved gods,

which are solely gods as a result of they bear in mind
methods to stand in darkness

methods to flip from stone into mild,
ceaselessly shifting, ceaselessly fixed.

In Old Delhi, slip me into the market air,
among the many smells and hues and the warmth,

Stop for a second by Jama Masjid,
so you possibly can lose your self within the hum of all of it,
a metropolis of voices holding its breath —
each hope and prayer, floating up
previous the minarets,
going someplace I’ll by no means know.

Let me drift to the floor of Nigeen Lake,
like lilies urgent up,
pushing towards nonetheless water, making an attempt to fulfill
the mountains that lean in shut

Just part of me, resting
the place the world is small and the sky is huge.

Finally, to the Arabian Sea, let me drift out—
the place each wave is each departure and return,

and start once more, like every thing we’re—
each misplaced factor, let out, coming dwelling.

and when the daybreak comes, I’ll be there – quiet,
not gone, precisely—simply all over the place
I wished to be.

9 November 2024