St Agnes’ Eve on 20 January, which precedes the 3rd century virgin Roman martyr’s feast, was usual chilly no doubt, but at India Habitat Centre there was a warm breeze of nostalgia flowing during a dramatised rendition by Kanika Aurora of the book, Satrein Aur Satrein (Stray Thoughts), written by Anita Rakesh on her much-acclaimed husband.

The Hindi playwright Mohan Rakesh, who died young at 46, was a refugee from Punjab during Partition and lived in Karol Bagh, where many other Punjabis had settled down at Naiwala. Though married earlier, he fell in love with 21-year-old Anita and, following a tumultuous romance in Chawri Bazaar, wed her after eloping to Bombay.

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Mohan Rakesh is best remembered for three plays, Ashadh-ka-Ek-Din, Lehron ke Rajhans and Aadha Adhure. The titles in themselves attract the reader for they are just as enticing as the works of Somerset Maugham ~ The Moon and Six pence, Cakes and Ale and The Razor’s Edge.

Rakesh, a thick-set man, who looked like the actor Ashok Kumar in suit and tie with centre-parted hair, used to close the door of his room even to his wife while writing not only plays but also novels like Andhere Bandh Kamre. It was a trait he shared with Kavi Harivansh Rai Bachchan, Amitabh Bachchan’s father. One once went to meet the poet with Gyani Narain, DNE of The Statesman, and was told by his wife Teji that Bachchan Sahib was busy and only when he opened the room could we enter.

He did so sooner than later and it was a joy to hear him talk of fellow-professors of Allahabad University, Firaq Gorakhpuri and Dr Ishwari Prasad ~ both not on the best of terms, with the shair telling the vendor of potatoes to go and sell them to the historian at the same price at which they were sold in Napoleon’s time, and the round cap-wearing neighbour asking him to beware of the Urdu muse-besotted drunkard with red eyes.

Mohan Rakesh, though not a university wit, was just as eccentric but whenever the month of Aashadh comes one is reminded of his play and the scary night for shelter-seekers, at a forsaken haveli with a weird retainer, while the elements howled outside as a precursor to the monsoon.