Nobody said it was easy

Nobody said it was easy,
No one ever said it would be so hard. ~ The Scientist, Coldplay

You may imagine that life doesn’t wait; I have learned that death certainly doesn’t. Death comes and comes and comes again, and life goes on.

My beautiful aunt is gone. My free, and happy, and peaceful, and confused, and generous, and soulful aunt is no more. When grief really comes to you it isn’t a thousand sobs through the day, it is a thousand sobs all rolled into one loud lament early in the morning. It is so short and sudden and it bellows; then it is gone. There’s nothing you can do, nothing you can change. Grief is so unfaltering, there is no respite.

You may argue: respite is pleasant memories you cradle from not so long ago. After all, it was only yesterday you were sitting in a straight-back chair in her bedroom, telling her all the little things from your life. And only yesterday, you met at Bisque, your favourite coffee shop, and over fried chicken talked of life and hope and love. Only yesterday you were walking through the narrow lanes of Amritsar, the shadowed lanes of Delhi, the cold and leisurely streets of Jaipur. Only yesterday you were exchanging books, and sharing stories you savored, and people you cared for.

Now, my beautiful aunt is gone.

When I met her last, oddly, I had a sense that perhaps I would be writing in her memory soon. I had a sense I would be writing about her fragile and easy and warm spirit, and that perhaps I should tell her too. I did not. I did not…

I told her I loved her, but I did not how much I admired and yearned to be a little bit of her.

And now, my beautiful aunt is gone.

She left me with something though. She left me with music, she was passionately fond of the greats from the 70s, and 80s, and 90s and in her love for music there is solace. She left me with her calm, her Buddhist way of life, her free spirit. She always lived in the now.

So am I now. So am I in the now, for the future seems so vast and so vacant and so volatile with only a past to lean back on. The now is all there is.

RIP Dolly. They seldom make them like you.

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