The best among us

"Who would be the first among us to go" is not a question that we often ponder over. Definitely not when we're in our twenties. As cousins from a big family, we range between the early twenties to the late forties. Even with such a wide coverage, we've never had to think of such morbid things. We were young and healthy.
Life, or God, or Death, whoever it was, however, had different plans.

It's strange. Everytime I think about it, a huge sigh escapes me. No tear has left me yet however. I didn't let it. I can pretend it didn't happen.

I can pretend that I woke up to just the usual morning, got ready in my normal auto pilot way, and drove to work listening to whatever music was on the playlist for that day or talking to my fiance. However, that's not what happened. I woke up to find my father, sitting in a dark living room. That should have thrown me off. My father loves well lit rooms. He has all four lights on when left to himself. He was sitting in the dark, and rubbing his eyes.

"Naveen is dead" No matter how old you get, or how mature you get, you don't want to hear the D word in the same sentence with anyone you know and love.

"What are you talking about. He was just in the city yesterday or day before" Thanks to facebook.

"He met with an accident on the way back. One police says he's unconscious, the other says he passed away."

This is the kind of time you'd expect things to cinematically blank out. But no. Not for me.

"I bet he's just unconscious. Which hospital did you say he's admitted in?"
Hope. Stupid idiot hope that I cursed and battled against for years was back now. I had no idea it had moved back and taken such firm roots in me again.

I spent the next half hour trying to call every number listed for the government hospital he was taken to. No luck. All numbers were out of reach. Why can't the damn government keep their records upto date. My father was already calling his close relatives, his other sisters and my other cousins who didn't know yet and letting them know.
"Stop! You don't know anything for sure yet" I tried to tell him desperately. He was however wiser.
By a sudden light bulb moment, I called Naveen's number. Some guy picked up. "Give the phone to Naveen" I said confidently. I was certain he was just lying there, coming to consciousness again, and would say he's fine. The guy mumbled something and handed the phone over to another person. He identified himself as the police. "How is he?" I asked. Hope still standing tall. He went on to ask about who I was. "His sister. How is he?". "I'm sorry ma'am". "HOW IS HE?" "I'm sorry ma'am. He's. I'm sorry"

You know what sucks? I didn't cry even then. I just stared at the phone blankly for a while.

I didn't go back to tell my father that it was confirmed. It seemed a cruel thing to do. He seemed to know anyway.

I went and brought in the laundry that's I'd forgotten the evening before. I messaged my sister. I meticulously folded each piece of cloth and put it back in my cupboard one by one.

They were now talking about when the "Body" would be available to take back.


I realize now, as those stupid tears threaten to fall, that I'm a master at pretense. I can pretend everything is fine. I can pretend just the last 24 hours didn't happen. I can pretend he's fine 600 kms away, just as he was. As I pretend, another part of me asks and acts sensibly.

"Where is his wife?" "How is she"

Just like that, one life was over.

We talk about him in the past tense now. How cruel.

Naveen was my younger cousin. My younger brother. 3 years younger.

As cousins, we were in 3 different groups. My older cousins, the ones in the forties, born to my dad's eldest 2 sisters were almost from a different generation. Then the second group of cousins who are now in the thirties - we (the youngest group) looked up to them, but they still have played with us. Finally, there were us - Me, the three boys, each of us born a year after another and finally my sister - the youngest, who was in our group because we were the closest.

He was youngest of the boys, but the truest of us all. He stayed closest to the roots. Followed in our grandfather's and his father's footsteps. He loved animals and worked with them.

I've never in all the years I've known him, seen him without a smile or a laugh on his face. I've known him since he was a tiny munchkin I could chase. I've known him as the gangly teen - whom we teased and asked not to break. Who with his wiry frame used to romp around with his two big dogs, and more often than not, with a snake on his person. I remember him getting excited about a lizard, catching it and feeding it to a snake. I remember how everytime he laughed at my fear of animals, but kept them from me anyway. I remember being jealous of him as he was one of the first of us to learn to drive. I remember him as he outgrew all of us - but never made us feel bad about being shorter. After years of us teasing him for being so thin, you'd think he'd have a better response than a laugh when he grew taller - no. He's was too damn good.

Being a civil engineer, he was my father's favourite. He was the one who revived our grandparents' house and brought it back to life.

He was the first one from our group to find the love of his life. The first to get married. The first to have a baby. And now.

I remember the day before he got married - his wife's birthday, he got her a big cake, a teddy bear and other heart shaped things. Nothing compared to the amount of love he had to give. I honest to God have not seen a happier couple. His wife is a darling, and they obviously loved each other to the moon and back. She smiled and laughed as much as him. She came into our family less than 2 years back, but she's already such an important part of us.

It's been less than three months since we went to his baby boy's baptism.... looking at who used to be a little boy now effortlessly being such an amazing father and husband made me so proud. I don't remember going to any other niece or nephew's baptism. We went for his son's. We went because it was his son. He got the whole family to put aside even the little differences and anything else to come together.

I used to keep telling Bloo about him, that they'd totally hit it off because they both loved animals. Now they'll never meet.
Just the day before, his wife pinged me and we were talking, and she mentioned how excited she was to come to my wedding.

My heart goes out to her and the little one most of all. How devastating it must be to lose the love of your life at twenty-five.

I keep sighing thinking of them .. such heavy sighs.

I didn't go to his funeral.
My dad and I met him last at the station after the baptism. He'd come to drop a friend. We chatted and spoke about God knows what. Didn't realize the significance of that conversation then.
I'm happy with that being my last memory of him.
I won't ask why he took away someone so young and vibrant. I know God has His own plan. However,

I wish I'd stayed better in touch with him after he'd gotten married.
I wish I'd taken bloo to see him

Now ...

I know mom will take care of him, and show him around up there.
I hope he takes care of his wife and son, just like mom takes care of us now. I know he will.
I hope she figures out the best way forward.
Please God, keep uncle, aunty, baby and mom safe and within your sight.