Your first death anniversary

It was exactly a year back on this day when I landed in Bangalore and received the call from Ash to go check up on you. The moment she mentioned your name, I feared the worst. I redirected the Uber to your house instead of mine, which was not unusual as there have been so many times in the past when I have landed in Bangalore and come straight to see you. But this time, I was gritting my teeth and clenching my fingers in the hopes that I would indeed see you, and that quiver I heard in Ash’s voice was nothing but a misconception.

I reached Ramamurthynagar but I just couldn’t find your house. I walked up and down through so many streets, noticed so many places we used to go for a smoke, but your house was nowhere to be found. I called Ash and she said I should look for a house where people may have gathered. I called Munda and asked if he could come and help me.

With Munda’s help, we spotted your house, and the first sign of relief for me was that there was no crowd. The second sign were your parents looking and talking the way they always do, asking me and Munda about our lives and things.

It was almost 10 minutes into the conversation that I couldn’t take it anymore and I asked, “where is Bala?”, and just as casually as they had spoken till then, your mom says, “he passed away yesterday”. I was gutted. I could feel the air from stomach escape me. But I asked again, “he passed away? Yesterday?”. And once again in the very same tone they say “yes he did. You didn’t know? We thought that’s the reason you came here?”.

My shock turned to rage. But I have always been incapable of showing rage. Nobody noticed anything therefore. But inside I was boiling.

I was supposed to know? Why are they talking like this is normal? And how the hell was I supposed to know? I couldn’t even find this damned house! And why is nobody else here? Why is Bala himself not here? Has he gone forever and I don’t even get to see him one last time?

“where is the body?”, I somehow gathered myself and asked.

“it’s in the hospital and we will be bringing it here tomorrow”

“and what happens after that?”

“we will be doing a puja in the morning and taking it to crematorium by 11am”

“that soon?”

“yes, given what has happened to him, it is best to dispose the body quickly”

What has happened to him? What the hell did he do? All those conversations about hanging on to a gun, carrying stuff to OD, depression he couldn’t deal with any further, did he indeed go through with it? And why didn’t I know anything? I’ve been speaking with him almost every week. He only had a leg injury. And why am I here? I don’t live in Bangalore anymore, what am I doing in his house?

My mind was clouded with thoughts, and I could see you parents continuing to talk, but none of it were registering with me anymore.

Thankfully Munda was there with me. Not only did he have the presence of mind to find your house, he also knew it was time to leave, and even more importantly, he knew we should spend some time before he dropped me home.

We went to a bar nearby. I made a few calls en route to explain what happened. Every time I spoke to someone, I almost choked, but somehow held it together, explaining what I just heard.

Sush started to cry, Noel and Muni started making plans to travel, there was a lot happening and nothing happening at the same time.

I finally had a few seconds to myself in the elevator with just Munda. It was the first quiet moment since we head the news, and that was the first time I cried.

I don’t remember when I cried last. So many other deaths, so many breakups, so many disappointments in life, but I used to always think that my tear glands dried up somewhere as a kid.

But you made me cry Bala. For the first time in that elevator, and so many times after that.

It’s been a year since that day. The last time I choked thinking about you was when I read out the first blog I wrote about you to the guys at New Orleans. I was just reading it out and it had been so many months since you passed, and still I choked. Once again surprising me that you're getting these emotions out of me.

I miss that guy. I miss my best friend. I still remember how calm he looked when I saw him on this day a year back. He were never calm. Every time I thought he was asleep, he would flinch. I’ve never seen him as calm as I did on that day he lay outside his house. I don’t know if it’s what he wanted. If it was that peace he seemed to be searching for. He never knew what he wanted. He always wanted what I had instead. Did I give up on him? Did I lose interest in him that he had no purpose anymore? I was so caught up in life that I didn’t know what was happening with him. I remember that day I was in Hague with family and he kept calling me and saying he is going to kill himself. I dismissed him then as well. I told myself I should call back the next day to check up since he was as usual drunk talking. And I didn’t call the next day. I got caught up once more. I ignored him. Probably a lot of us did the same thing, moving on with our lives. And he remained right there. In that very same house in Ramamurthynagar Bangalore. He kept seeing everyone close to him leave. Even the pleasure he got from drinking left. But he continued to drink, forcing himself towards his end. And today, the loss is ours. All of us miss his smile, his wisdom, the conversations with him. A big part of our life is gone. No matter how much the rest of us come together, it will never be the same.

We caught up yesterday to raise a toast to you. Through our conversations we began discussing a song that reminds us of you. All of us had one. I’ll end this with a line from the song that reminds me of you.

It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right. I hope you had the time of your life.