I googled the meaning of the word 'die' and all I got was 'stop living'. Was it really that simple?
Well, maybe yes. people who die simply stop living. But it is the weeping souls and the paralysed vision of theirs kins who have to travel the long and tiring journey of grief.
My teacher, Mr. Kaushalendra Shukla breathed his last on September 23rd, 2011. They say that time heals all wounds. But the truth is that all wounds leave a scar. And every time you are reminded of it, no matter how small the scar is, the pain shoots up. Charming, funny and a towering presence in my life, Sir was always there when I needed his help in studies or otherwise. His death came as a surprise to everyone. he was home, sipping tea with his family blissfully ignorant of the future and suddenly, within minutes, he was dead..'stopped living'. I came to know about it on 24th September, a day after his accident. I still remember the numbness that took over when i was informed about his death, his body, I was later told, was in such a bad state that he had to be recognised through his clothing. He had been involved in a road accident where a truck had hit his motor-bike from behind. That is all it took for a life to end. Not a plane crash. Not a terrorist attack. not an earth quake. Just a hit. maybe it really was that simple to, you know, stop living.It has been over a year and six months now, but the pain still remains.
The relationship I had with Sir wasn't just a student-teacher relationship. It was a friend-teacher-mentor-father relationship. Everything he ever said to me is so vivid in my memory even today..it is almost like a slide show of memories. Of course there were times when I closed my eyes and all I could see was his face. I remember waking up and realising that he wasn't here anymore and it was like somebody had slapped me hard across my face. Everything reminded me of him and caused me to break down. But life really does teach us all. things still remind me of him and there is a pang but tears no longer flow. Earlier, his voice echoed painfully in my head when I was around his house. Now I visit his family once a month. earlier, the notebook which had his last signatures was sacred.It was unwritten rule. No one could touch it.. But now, i open it often and memories flood my mind, making me smile.
'Take your grief one day at a time'. Someone had told me. I didn't understand then. But I do, now. Sir's death left a void in my life which no one can ever fill. he taught me not only Math, but also life.
Rest In Peace, Sir. And of course, return if possible.
Well, maybe yes. people who die simply stop living. But it is the weeping souls and the paralysed vision of theirs kins who have to travel the long and tiring journey of grief.
My teacher, Mr. Kaushalendra Shukla breathed his last on September 23rd, 2011. They say that time heals all wounds. But the truth is that all wounds leave a scar. And every time you are reminded of it, no matter how small the scar is, the pain shoots up. Charming, funny and a towering presence in my life, Sir was always there when I needed his help in studies or otherwise. His death came as a surprise to everyone. he was home, sipping tea with his family blissfully ignorant of the future and suddenly, within minutes, he was dead..'stopped living'. I came to know about it on 24th September, a day after his accident. I still remember the numbness that took over when i was informed about his death, his body, I was later told, was in such a bad state that he had to be recognised through his clothing. He had been involved in a road accident where a truck had hit his motor-bike from behind. That is all it took for a life to end. Not a plane crash. Not a terrorist attack. not an earth quake. Just a hit. maybe it really was that simple to, you know, stop living.It has been over a year and six months now, but the pain still remains.
The relationship I had with Sir wasn't just a student-teacher relationship. It was a friend-teacher-mentor-father relationship. Everything he ever said to me is so vivid in my memory even today..it is almost like a slide show of memories. Of course there were times when I closed my eyes and all I could see was his face. I remember waking up and realising that he wasn't here anymore and it was like somebody had slapped me hard across my face. Everything reminded me of him and caused me to break down. But life really does teach us all. things still remind me of him and there is a pang but tears no longer flow. Earlier, his voice echoed painfully in my head when I was around his house. Now I visit his family once a month. earlier, the notebook which had his last signatures was sacred.It was unwritten rule. No one could touch it.. But now, i open it often and memories flood my mind, making me smile.
'Take your grief one day at a time'. Someone had told me. I didn't understand then. But I do, now. Sir's death left a void in my life which no one can ever fill. he taught me not only Math, but also life.
Rest In Peace, Sir. And of course, return if possible.
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