Mohamed Abdul Mutalib, an English professor by day and a poet by night, passed away on 17-FEB-2008 at 11:30 pm.

Five minutes before his death he finished writing an untitled poem, perhaps the last in the series of PODS, dedicated to his wife. Later on, she would cry to me and hand me the diary in which he jotted down his thoughts in the guise of poetry. This inspiring and mysterious journey of words had begun many days back, almost more than a year ago. Inspiring because by breaking the conv ... more »

Mohamed Abdul Mutalib, an English professor by day and a poet by night, passed away on 17-FEB-2008 at 11:30 pm.

Five minutes before his death he finished writing an untitled poem, perhaps the last in the series of PODS, dedicated to his wife. Later on, she would cry to me and hand me the diary in which he jotted down his thoughts in the guise of poetry. This inspiring and mysterious journey of words had begun many days back, almost more than a year ago. Inspiring because by breaking the conventions of poetry, PODS gave me the courage to be myself. Mysterious because in the process of manufacturing ripples of rhymes, the poet experienced miracles.

Sitting inside the small room where we spent hours discussing about our works and everything else under the sun, I discovered the joy of art while my professor (the poet) gleefully hopped from ideas to ideas. Back then, I was penning my first novel and my beloved professor, Mutalib was writing and re-writing these poems which he lovingly called PODS.

On another of those occasions, a few nights before he passed away, he asked me if I could read his diary, type these poems in MicrosoftWord, design a coverpage and in fact, publish them if possible. Of course, I agreed.

A phone call woke me on the night of 17th February and I was left heartbroken. He was no more. My responsibility became all the more emotional. Throughout last year, I went through his diary and connected the verses he had scattered all over it. The numbering is all his own. And for me, who is quite accustomed to his scribbles, relating the pages was no problem. I don't know if I have succeeded in creating PODS like the way he wanted them to be. But I have tried and I hope readers will find what I found in these PODS: the reflection of a beautiful mind.  Less