Empty but Heavy

To,
Those who read the following, let it be known that that this post originates from the depths of a saddened mind and the heaviest of hearts.

Mani – The greatest matriarchal figure I have ever known. The only source of unconditional love I have had the greatest fortune of receiving. My memories of you will always be intertwined with the soft fabric of your creamy white sari; the tinkling of your gold bangles; the shuffle of your rubber chappals; your soft, blue rimmed eyes shining with intelligence and knowledge; the taste of pure love in the crisp ‘Nimkis’, the fluffy ‘Loochis’, the orange sweetness of the ‘Jeelipees’ you made for me; your enthusiasm at my birth, captured forever in old photographs; my only association with a grandfather I never had the chance to get to know better; your 19th century rules and regulations on hygiene that I will never be able to understand; the closest proximity that I have reached to history, that being your presence before the greatest figures of Indian History –Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose and your ability to always know what was going through my mind without even being my own mother. Even though you never lived to receive your ‘putul’, your only earnest wish from me, I’d like you to know that as soon as I can I will fulfill your only request. Today I performed a short ritual for your soul to rest in peace forever but this, I want you to know, will never be the last goodbye. Mani, you will always run through my veins, my very being.

Reuben – Warm, kind, generous and loving. The one with the brightest smile and the most unique giggle that will always ring in my ears. Remember the day we first met, long before AIESEC, in the TT room of your Boat Club apartment? The way you tripped when you saw me and your apologetic smile when we were being introduced? Memories of you will always be associated with your blue and white basketball jersey; the wire rimmed spectacles that always suited your face; bunking college and wandering aimlessly through the city of Madras with the rest of the gang; hours spent in my PG, Breakpoint and ‘My Kinda Place’ and other such inconsistent places; those few weeks we had in Kolkata; conversations with your charming parents and warm sister at Udita; the uncanniness in the similarity of the warmth in your and your family's smiles; heart to hearts with your sister which involved your occasional tid bits; tea on Park Street; driving through the City of Joy with Rolf in your large hearted Zen; cajoling Apache and our last chat on Facebook. I never even had the chance to give you one last hug or even say goodbye. Till I visit you in your final resting place, please accept these words as my hug.

Every time a memory of either of you slips sneakily into my humdrum life, I will ache inside. Forever filled with the regrets of not keeping in touch more or not calling more often or even doing things differently, I will now be able to see through the foolish and shallow world we live in and try and emulate your greatest qualities in order to be the person I want to become.

Love you forever, Mani.
Miss you, Reuben.

From,
A grieving granddaughter.
A stunned friend.