Took the urban village shortcut to reach the auditorium in time, just as curtains went up. Eleven Gujarati women poets honored for their work; eleven volumes of poetry released. Each of the poets read out a selection. All of them paid respects to SD, the late poet-publisher. Morari Bapu briefly graced the occasion. My highlight was a book set gifted by the poetess lady. And an opportunity to escort an aging diva (known for her traditional stories at a time when women didn’t write), now well into her eighties, stick in hand and all, to her car. I stood up for my craft—how good are you? Very. Says who? IL, MR etc etc. The first time ever I’ve been as presumptuous. The silence from H* is getting to me.