Lakhan’s story didn’t begin with poetry. It began with presence- as a small child, observing chickens in their hen house, watching chicks hatch at the very moment of hatching, being one with it, eggs being laid and life beginning. He would also spend time sitting beside his two dogs in the veld, at the same time being one with the trees around him.

Years later, he also experienced what it was like to witness death at its core- as “it” leaves the body.

“A once moving body, full of life, becoming still and lifeless.”

This, he said, happened when he saw three of his dogs fighting. Two of them attacked the third one severely, even though he had rescued her.

As the injured dog went to lie down to regain her strength, he sat closely beside her, gently stroking her, as he felt her life leave her body.

“ What could once move becoming completely still and stiff (lifeless). I held my hand lightly on her head and could literally feel life slipping away out of her body, leaving it still and stiff. Even though she was gone, the memory and love remained,” added Lakhan.

Having always been an observer, it was only during one of his Guidance lessons in school that he realised what an observer meant when it was explained to him by the teacher. He learnt that lago in Shakespeare’s Othello described himself as an observer of the world.

Instantly, he felt a connection to those lines because he felt as though what was described to him in the lines, similarly described how he looks at the world. He doesn’t remember learning anything else from the book, but those lines stayed and remained dear to him.