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To that one special person....

There are certain people in every one of our lives whose name we never want to associate with death. This post is a long pending eulogy for that one very special person in my life. It was a long pending one due to the fact that it took really long for me to come to terms with the fact that she is no more.

I can very well give it in writing that the best days of my life were the ones I spent in my school. (Most of the 80s and 90s kid will agree that their school days were the best).

After all these years, if at all there is something I believe, it is the fact that, every day, every event, everything that happens to us, happens for a reason. We just have to pay close attention and connect the dots. My first day in my high school started with a prayer meeting for a lovely soul Ms.Mildred John. I sat in the penultimate row and thought: she must have been one beautiful soul. The entire school was echoing how much they miss her. Such an uncommon first day in a new place. Little did I know that there will be someone from this school who will take that special place in my life, greatly influence me and then pass away.

The very first thing I noticed about her was her ever smiling face, neatly draped saree and her long hair. She was my English teacher. Every little word I write/read/comprehend, I owe it to her. She instilled in me the love of literature and poetry. She really showed me how to carry oneself around - such poise! I still remember waiting in front of XII-A to wish her ‘Good Morning’. I still remember that gentle smile and those warm words of encouragement. I still remember how she gently pats my back whenever I was nervous about something. It was from her that I understood, how a woman can be beautiful inside out. She was the one who made the most pressurized two years of a student life, pass like a breeze.

Being a daughter/son of a well-known teacher is both a boon and bane. My board exam marks were bad enough to make my parents wonder if I was ever a studious kind. I felt so bad about my performance and eventually lost the iota of confidence I had on me. Days after the results, I had to go to school to get some papers: All I did was to pray that I should not meet her. Gathering all the courage, I went to school, met the least number of teachers possible and had already broken down to tears in front of another teacher. That’s when, she came rushing to me and said, “So what, I still believe in you!“. It is that belief that keeps me going till date.

Every weekend that I get back home from college, the first thing I did was to go meet her. It was a practice that continued even after both our marriages. I m still glad that I was able to meet her with my little one. Least were I aware that it was our last meeting.

Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine losing her. The first thing I did after I landed in Canada was to send her a message. She was always (and is still) my first thought in the morning and the last thought before bed. June 4, 2015 - First birthday without her wishes. June 27, 2015 - The news I did not want to hear!

There were few surreal instances where I felt her right next to me - the warmth, the touch, the love and the hug. Her death has made me look at life in a totally different dimension.

Writing this down for her, while I gather myself to go to her place tomorrow - first time after her death…

Music I heard with you are now memoirs

Sleepless nights, lost in your thoughts.

Repenting on that unmade call,

And those untold words.

Did you really have to go this soon?

How did you ever think I can take this?

I can’t call you on the phone; I can’t

Knock on your door. I close my eyes to see your face

And I feel a warm embrace.

Ms.Radhika - If love alone could have saved you, you would never have died.