An Interruption

I am trying to think of the correct song.
I cannot.

You are a name from my childhood.
You are a conversation I can barely remember.
"So, you like reading?"
"Yes Uncle."
"Good, good. Keep reading."
And I did.

You are hidden in the black and white photographs from times before I was born.
You are a fragment of my father's management days and crazy Corbett trips.
You were twenty-two, and you were his best friend.
Brothers-in-arms.
As old as I am now. And I have a best friend too...

You are a voice I have heard all my life.
Your story is our story.
My story is your story.
"So, you like writing?"
"Yes Uncle."
"Good, good. Keep writing."
And I did.
There is only one story in the end, isn't there?

Pen pals with your daughter.
Hearing about the big, old house in Calcutta.
Books, books and more books.
Dinner and good times in Delhi.

I am still desperately trying to think of a song that will fit.
I can't seem to find it at the moment.

This is an interruption.
There will be fables yet.
We will write them together.
Someday.
I know it.