Farewell, my dear friend!

We humans are optimistic to a fault. Planning a decade of our career, saving for the perfect dream vacation or making long-term investments for a rainy day come naturally to us. We find comfort in the belief that we hold the reins for a better future in our hands. But do we, really? All it takes is a rude wake-up call from the higher power to unleash a tornado on our house of cards. As we bid farewell to a dear friend yesterday, we all but collapsed with the knowledge of how fickle and misled our perceived control on life truly is.

Uday, one of my close friends, left for heavenly abode yesterday triggering memories that I assumed had faded over time. He had been my batchmate since junior college, an exuberant 11th grader who hung out mostly with seniors. We had common friends and saw each other occasionally but our paths never crossed. It was only in our second year of engineering that we got acquainted and hit it off instantly. All due credit to him! He was the easiest person to get along with and made everyone feel comfortable around him.

Uday’s legendary wry sense of humour coupled with his brilliant smile worked like magic on trying days. We spent our best time at our college katta over cutting chai and veg pattice everyday. Everything from vengeful professors to gruelling submissions and Bollywood songs to the latest gossip became fodder for our hyper-animated discussions. Thanks to friends like him, it never mattered that I was the only Mech girl and often alone amongst a bunch of guys. He tormented me endlessly in zest but was sweetly caring and protective as well.

Reconnecting with him years later post marriage and kids felt like a mere pause in our friendship. I was happy to see him expertly handling his retail business and maintaining an enviable social life alongside. He has a wonderful family and his lovely twins are of A Jr’s age. It felt surreal sharing parenting and education tips with someone I once studied headache-inducing subjects (AM, SOM iykyk) and mugged up confusing equations with. Life came full circle for us. Who knew we would have to bid him farewell so soon?

There was chatter about him not keeping well for a while but it was only a few months ago that we understood the severity of what he was going through. Recurrent jaundice and a family history of liver problems had pushed him to the last resort; liver transplant. Even though his nephew volunteered to be a donor the entire process took a painfully long time testing his health and patience to its limits. His positive attitude, love for family and prayers of his countless well-wishers kept him going. However, he developed several post-surgery complications that ultimately made him cross over.

I visited him at the hospital twice; the last time after his second of four surgeries. True to his character, he chastised the nurse for the tasteless hospital food, got his ‘bathroom size’ room changed and his banter continued unhindered as if nothing happened. For someone new he might be on vacation with a curious long gash across his front and a few inconvenient tubes sticking out of his body. We talked about old crushes, whereabouts of long-lost friends and our favourite food joints even as his wife gently asked him to take rest. Did he have a feeling that we would never meet again?

Despite his frail condition, we weren’t prepared to accept his passing away so soon. Multiple emotions clouded our eyes and permeated our disturbed thoughts. Sadness for losing him, frustration over our helplessness, worry for his wife and kids, anger for him not taking early warning signals seriously, and mostly the unfairness of it all. “He has claustrophobia” our friend said slowly while he was being wheeled into the ambulance, inviting fresh drops on our tear-stained cheeks. Would it matter to him anymore?

He was a religious person but no amount of prayers could extend his life or lessen his pain. We’re simply puppets dancing on God’s tune and have to leave the stage when our act is over. How does one fill up the void though? His quirky nicknames for his friends (including me), his readiness to meet whenever I was in town, and his genial personality are now a thing of the past. How does one recover from this? I want to hold on to the image of him sitting at his favourite place at our college entrance every morning, greeting his friends with a slur and smiling sweetly to feign innocence. I believe he would want that too.

My heart goes out to his family. They tiptoed around him round the clock for the past three months but still had to endure his loss. One learns to accept grief but that doesn’t make it any less painful. He meant a lot to a lot of people. There isn’t a single person who wouldn’t tear up in his memory today, and that is the legacy he has left behind.

Travel well, my friend, and farewell for now. Till we meet again, Jai Shri Ram!

© This site A Vibrant Palette is the property of Varsha Bagadia. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Varsha Bagadia and A Vibrant Palette with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Varsh

Blogger. Author. Editor. Content creator. Mom.