Death. The word that impacts you only when it hits you. The sudden demise of loved ones, forgotten friends, familiar faces. Only then, does it feel all the more real. Otherwise, it’s often a far-fetched, distant part of human life, often not even spoken about.
I admired you for the zest you had about life the first time we struck conversation seated in the lecture theatre. The break during the talk we had to endure for 3 modular credits. The “I dare eat alone” campaign you started in the Arts canteen. I replied you “I’d be there” but couldn’t make it in the last minute. We didn’t have many conversations thereafter since the common lectures we had were few since we were in the final semester. But, I sought inspiration from the pockets of your life you shared via Facebook. Your love for outdoor sports. For music. For travel. For photography. For life, at large. Your positive attitude and optimism.
Amazing photography is the one thing that inspires me on a daily basis. Amidst the coldness of the world, selfish beings, hurtful worlds that get hurled in moments of fury, earthquakes and tsunamis, photography makes me feel like not all the beauty in the world is gone. Not all wasted. Someday, I wish my pocket and also time allow me to travel around the world just to shoot. And by then, I should have mustered up enough courage to venture the world alone.
I posted this above paragraph along with the photo on my personal blog on April 13, 2011.
Even now, I still love the shot. You captured so many thoughts and evoked so many emotions within me. The whole ‘lost in translation’ effect made me pause and reflect.
I take a moment to remember the person you were, you are. You still are. The person that has left so many footprints in the hearts of many you’ve impacted, inspired over these years. 26 short-lived but well-fulfilled years in my eyes.
Rest in peace, my friend.