For my friend

We lost a friend yesterday. To life, in all its lousiness. To this world in its sheer cruelty to the nicest people. I have no way of expressing my grief except by writing about him and for him. He was a really good person, simple, shy and very kind. Slightly austere. He liked plain dal. He was the first to help in a recent hour of need, even though he hadn’t known me all that long. I didn’t even ask him, he just did, on his own. He came to see me, just a couple of weeks ago. He smiled and laughed and talked about regular stuff, sitting on this very sofa. He made me feel better when I was low. And now we won’t see him again. I am not only shocked, I am angry – with everything and everyone. I am angry for the sensitivity of his soul. Why should someone so good and trusting feel like this is the only way? Why him, why so young, why so soon?  I’m not sure about divine retribution and karma and all of that, but I am convinced that the dust storm that has sprung up suddenly is the entire universe raging against his departure.

I was thinking of joining the pottery class he went to. I was planning to ask him to help with my rather basic photography skills. And now all I can think is I wasn’t even able to give anything back, not be of any help, of enough help.

He is one of the few people who took real interest in my plants when he met them. Especially the mixed sadabahar. And the vegetables. So these pictures are for him.

The first tomato sprouting:

    

The first flowers on the brinjal plant (I remember he asked me: “Why brinjal?’ and I found it really funny at that point):

And the sadabahar – that are in full bloom right now, all shades of pink and white. These are for you and only you. Like their name, you will always be – in my mind, extraordinarily and always gentle and kind. I’m truly sorry we couldn’t make you feel like it’s worth staying. Maybe it’s really not, for truly loving souls. Now I wish I’d had more time to even just try. We pray that wherever you are, you are in less pain now. 

       

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Comments
2 Responses to “For my friend”
  1. papri says:

    you know, like the sadabaahar, he will always be there to see you through life. he has given us his courage to share, so that all of us who knew him or knew of him, have that one ounce of extra courage to go through with this life and rage, rage and rage and never stop.

  2. Sri says:

    What a beautiful person he must have been to inspire so beautiful a farewell!

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