Last week has been strange, to say the least. There were the highs, like the amazing dinner we had at Paradise Island (a very generous treat from Rohit); catching up with my friend, MA at Cosmo Village (she was also sweet enough to bring along a belated xmas present. I felt like a cad, so I ended up treating her).
Then there were the lows -- my Bua (dad's sister) passed away last Saturday. I was in Chennai on a recruitment drive when I got the news in an sms message on my phone. I stared at the message hard a few times. I didn't know what to do. I was emotionless.
Shashi Bua was 68. She was legendary stuff (truly). She was larger than life in her region. Large crowds and adulation were norm to her. She faced every fathomable obstacle. A brave woman, she brought up all (her 5) children and her grandchildren by herself when Fufaji died at the age of 31. She had even fought breast cancer at the age of 62. She died fairly quickly, peacefully, and without pain, and she had lived a happy life close to her friends and family. I called home. I spoke to my folks. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to react. I was unable to emote a single teardrop.
She always treated me a little special. Used to address me as "Bitiya". I had spoken to her just five days earlier. "Take good care of yourself in the winter, eat well, drink milk everyday morning and evening, eat Badaam, fruits and green vegetables" was what she had told me, like she did every single time I spoke to her on the phone. And now suddenly she is gone. A blunt reminder of the impermanence of our material bodies. God bless her soul.
Then there were the lows -- my Bua (dad's sister) passed away last Saturday. I was in Chennai on a recruitment drive when I got the news in an sms message on my phone. I stared at the message hard a few times. I didn't know what to do. I was emotionless.
Shashi Bua was 68. She was legendary stuff (truly). She was larger than life in her region. Large crowds and adulation were norm to her. She faced every fathomable obstacle. A brave woman, she brought up all (her 5) children and her grandchildren by herself when Fufaji died at the age of 31. She had even fought breast cancer at the age of 62. She died fairly quickly, peacefully, and without pain, and she had lived a happy life close to her friends and family. I called home. I spoke to my folks. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to react. I was unable to emote a single teardrop.
She always treated me a little special. Used to address me as "Bitiya". I had spoken to her just five days earlier. "Take good care of yourself in the winter, eat well, drink milk everyday morning and evening, eat Badaam, fruits and green vegetables" was what she had told me, like she did every single time I spoke to her on the phone. And now suddenly she is gone. A blunt reminder of the impermanence of our material bodies. God bless her soul.
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