Onwumbiko*

I've had to face mortality a lot, lately.

My favouritest uncle passed away a month or so ago and I still haven't actually come to terms with that. It doesn't seem real yet. Even though there are random moments in my day when I think 'Why did you have to leave us?'.

And today I received news that my aunt's FIL had passed away a day after he was reported to be recovering well from an operation on the day before. I'm not quite devastated but I am grieving and I am somewhat upset. He wasn't particularly closely related nor was I really close to him... but given that I lived at their place for a while and we did make some memories then, this is hard to deal with. I smile thinking of how he said 'I shall call her Princess now' when I met him mere months ago and how he would be happy at the tiny fact that at family gatherings I was the only one other than mom in the kannada-speaking crowd who would make an effort to talk in Tamil and thus somehow make them a part of the gathering.

There have been several other deaths in the last year. Not all of them really registered. But mum's best friend lost her husband and I really like the lady, it's hard to not feel anything in such a case. Specially seeing as how the gentleman passed away weeks after my meeting him and coming to London. There are the sundry elder relatives I lost.

And each time I think 'My wedding shall take place without their presence'. It makes a difference because my wedding has been the embodiment of happiness to me. And I wanted all these people to have been there to share it with me. But they're all gone now.

My favourite uncle. I had high hopes there. I wanted him to be there and do my kanyadaan along with my parents and my other aunt and uncle. It meant a great deal to me. Because these three couples are the elders who truly shaped me. And while my parents can never be matched, the other four adults are, were, will always be the people who were close enough to being parents too... surrogate parents, just to have a term to describe them. And now one of them shall not be there. And lord knows who else I shall have to miss.

And sitting here, it's making me think if I should simply abandon what I have here and go home so I can build memories while I still can. Speak to my grandparents, hear the stories from my childhood again, actually be able to understand their point of view on things that matter to them, understand what those rituals we follow mean, tell them about my views on different things...

I know for a fact that going home will only drive me mad. There isn't much to do there and I don't have many friends left. And this is my life now. But I still wonder if I should chuck it all and go home to be with the ones I love, even if I have trouble expressing it and I am a wilful child around them, more trouble than fun. I know that your thoughts do turn this way when you lose someone, but I still wonder.

And then I think, isn't it shameful that I have lost someone dear and I haven't, cannot even grieve properly? Does it seem disrespectful and somehow lessen their importance to me because I am not shedding tears over losing them.

The tears are there... I only blink them away because they catch me unaware and I do not want to cry around anyone except myself. I walk the streets defiantly, head eld high, daring the world to cross me... and steal a few moments where my head is down and my eyes are focused on the sidewalk. I nearly miss my stop on the tube because I'm so lost in contemplating the turn of events and its corollary meanings. I look into the eyes of a stranger who thanks me for something and I'm surprised to see the genuineness of her smile and the light in her eyes and I wonder if she can see I don't quite reciprocate. And I wonder if she can tell Death keeps me from it. I wonder if people can tell when someone has been touched by death when it's this remote. And yet I cannot comprehend my loss when I am alone. It just feels strange and disconnected.

Aunt once said to me that we remain in debt of the people we meet... and if we do not manage to repay those debts, then we shall be associated with those people again when we are born again. I find that somewhat comforting. Because it means that I shall still be able to be with these people again and give them their due.

Yet I cannot stop wondering if being here now is what I ought to be doing.

I am DewdropDream. And tonight, I am questioning Life.

*Death I implore you. From Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe.