Sunday, September 20, 2009

If tomorrow never comes

A familiar face was missing when I went back home the last time, my grandma passed one day before I was scheduled to depart from the US, her favorite line to me was 'mote jaije, yeh burgainche jevan!' (you should become fat, this morsel of food is for kids). As much as you think you may be prepared, you can never anticipate how death affects you.

This is almost another one of those morbid sounding posts, so stop if any talk about death scares you! I have been pondering this thought since a few weeks, how fascinating would it be to write your own obituary? Ted Kennedy Jr, delivered a beautiful eulogy for his Dad, no doubt he wrote it by himself, however was there anything else his Dad really wanted to say about himself, his final word?
If I were to write an obit and knowing me, you'd probably need to take out a full page in Udayavani or Rakno (Konkani weekly)! The best part it's a work in progress, I can keep editing it.

That brings me to another thought, as I was writing about MIT and Manipal and all the growing up we did there, I realized that the memory of receiving that call on that fateful Sunday morning of Easter was still crystal clear in my mind, although the conversation itself wasn't. It was ironically the day before April fool's day, the day before our sessionals.

How unfortunate is it for a young girl to write an ode for her friend while still in college? (It was published in the year book along with his sister's own eulogy). I remember trying to confirm that it was the Sujit I knew, since there were many other kids with the same name in their class. The church bells were ringing and my tall lanky friend from Sunday Catechism was no more. The circumstances were unfortunate and it affected almost our entire batch. The service drew hundreds of our batch-mates and our Late Parish Priest (who spent most of his life as a principal of a college) had his heart in the right place when he almost gave us all a lecture on how to live a good life, how not to disappoint the people who love us.

Having studied in an only girls school, Sunday Catechism class was our first opportunity at male friends and he was among the first, the last bench of the notorious girls! vs the last bench of the troublemaker boys! One each from each row have already passed on to a different world. From awkward teens to competitors in coaching class to drifting apart ever so slightly in a professional college environment, yet managing to catch up on some of those hour and a half journeys into College on those early Monday mornings.

I'm sure they are all in a better place today, we will all be... one day.

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