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Swastik Pal

One of his prized possession, his favorite red kite.

My Uncle Tukka
India   www.swastikpal.wordpress.com

When I was seven, my uncle was in his late twenties. Today I am twenty and he in his late forties; it’s been a long journey of twenty years. This project, if at all I can call it a project is a tribute to my uncle. This is a very personal project.

My uncle lost his hearing and speaking ability at a very tender age due to medical negligence and financial incapability of his family at that time. Years of social isolation led to his unstable mental condition as well.

This is my personal tribute to a man, a human being who continues to live in utmost silence for more than four decades now. One life, one room and how he passes one day at a time. This is his own little space, a room of 10×10, his own and only world.

I wanted to be a voice, perhaps his response to the way he perceives the world. His waking up to the morning sun, his little luncheon, his fear of the dark, his frustrations, his pain, his little world of amusement and also his dreams perhaps. Maybe these are my desperate wish and hope to give his practically non-existent life a befitting tribute.

He breathed his last on 22/01/2015

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