In 2018, I visited a humble translator’s home in Kondavil, Jaffna, with a friend of mine. Recently, while sifting through my archives, I rediscovered the images from that evening, captured on my mobile. It was dusk, and we stood outside his house, waiting for his return from work. At nearly 65, he rode home on a well-worn bicycle, the signs of wear reflecting much of his life.
At first glance, the rental house felt empty and unkempt—almost as though it had been forgotten. Yet, when he welcomed us inside, his warmth and modesty breathed life into the space. As a translator, he bridged the gap between English and Tamil for university students and others, possessing a wealth of knowledge in arts, science, and engineering.
Despite his own struggles—caring for his 90-year-old mother and living with broken household electronics—he maintained a quiet dignity. I am unsure of his current circumstances, but these images honour his memory and resilience.