Farewell and Rest in Peace...

“At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone.
It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out.
You cannot read loss, only feel it.”
― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

Returning from a 2 month hiatus from blogging, never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that the first post I would pen down would be about loss and death. And definitely not the loss of someone dear, someone I have known for 14years now, someone I lived with, cared for and saw growing up in front of my eyes. 

Jayanth Amal Raj
30th October 1981 - 29th September 2013

I met him for the first time in 1999, when he was a shy, frail, reclusive teenager who had just been diagnosed with an ailment that had turned his life upside down... 

A year later, when I married his brother, he came to live with us in our first home in Bangalore. 

Life wasn't easy and he had more than his fair share of ups and downs, but he fought to beat the odds. 

And with pride we watched him bloom from a scared, hesitant boy into a grown up who successfully battled his ailment, who had a job he loved and a circle of friends who loved him for who he was. 

Chotu (the little one) was the youngest one in the family. Even when surrounded by a bunch of family members who were over-protective and indulgent where he was concerned, he never let it change him - he was generous to a fault, sweet and considerate. He had the rare ability to see the good in everyone and make every one feel good about themselves. He unfailingly remembered birthdays and anniversaries and sent us all reminders to wish each other. He let himself get bullied into running errands.  If you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was happy to oblige. If you asked him for help, he was always there. For every gesture of love you showed, he returned it manifold. 

Over the years, he and I forged a relationship that went far beyond that a brother in law and a sister in law shared.

We ganged up together to poke fun at Vj.
And swore to be the only members in the Raj family who would never run a marathon.

He was the faithful lieutenant I dragged with me to shady theatres, to watch Rajnikanth movies that Vj refused to go watch. And to shopping expeditions Vj refused to accompany me to.

He stood by my side in the kitchen, each time I cooked; "I don't want you to feel alone in the kitchen" he said. And he generously praised every little thing I put on the table, while I poked fun at his forever growing appetite.

He knew I abhorred the sight of a dirty kitchen and so he always washed and tidied up and removed all signs of Vj's and his bachelor existence each time I was coming back home from a trip. He continued the tradition when was I visited Bangalore where he lived, making sure the apartment always underwent a round of thorough cleaning each time I was visiting. 

And he was, and will always remain my first fan, heaping extravagant praises on everything I did. Or telling friends and family members and colleagues countless stories about me. 

To him, his "Bhabhi" was larger than life... a person who was way more talented, more accomplished in his head than I really am or could ever hope to be, and whose love and approval mattered a lot to him. 

"You are the President and lone flag bearer of my fan club", I used to joke. 

Today that ardent fan is gone.

He would have been 32 this month but he didn't live to see his 32nd birthday. 

Over the last 8 days, from the moment I walked into the chapel and saw him lying peacefully as if asleep, I have gone through a whole gamut of emotions - shock, disbelief, anger and grief. 

I cannot believe he is gone. 

That he won't be with us for Christmas. 

That he will be missing from all our family gatherings.

That he will not be there for my niece's baptism or V1 V2's first communion. 

Or call to wish me on my birthday.

Or mail or text me silly jokes and annoying forwards. 

Or walk in through the door of our Bangalore home, asking me what I wanted cooked for dinner. 

As a part of me keeps trying to make sense of what happened, I remember the sight of him lying peacefully, seemingly asleep and I hold on to the image. 

I pray that he is at peace and happy in the place he has passed on to. 

And that he shall be there, watching over his nephews and niece who he adored. 

Rest in peace JAR.

"The angels are always near to those who are grieving, to whisper to them that their loved ones are safe in the hand of God".

 ~ Quoted in The Angels' Little Instruction Book by Eileen Elias Freeman, 1994