Death: Two Much

It is the third death anniversary of a lady I love still. A woman whose house I literally grew up in. My neighbour. Chella Rajendran. When I was 3years old I used to go to her house to get curd and drink it all up by the time I reached the last step leading to my house. Her daughter, Rajila(12years older than I was) was my only friend till I met Fazeela in 11th standard. I was Chella Auntys second daughter over the 15 years I knew her.

I shifted my house and things changed. We met so rarely and I had moved on to a new life. The two years in my new house were so eventful that I overlooked the fact that she had cancer. The next time I saw her was on Dec 16th, 2007. In an ice box. My heart bled so much that I kept wailing. Even more than her own daughter. My heart still bleeds thinking that I wasted 2 years of my life caught in my own web. But no point crying over spilled milk.

Today I heard about another death. A death that affected me in two ways. One because of my (girl)friend, who was crying uncontrollably for her lost moral support. Two because of my (boy)friend who was dying to come back to India from the UK for his lost role model. I was lost! I wanted to be in two places NOW.

Both of them were filled with so much negativity that scared me from the inside. Thoughts like "What if I die?", "What if something happens to my parents?" and "Is all this fame , money worth it?". I was going mad. How was I to explain to someone that only the body dies...there is still the soul that stays on and LIVES. Something that is felt. I can still feel the presence of all the people who have left my life...irrespective of if they are alive.

Basically, I hate December 16th.