Dear You,
Where are you? I know how you are. I know what you were. But I do not know where. Because you did not walk into the class this morning. But you do not know. You do not know that everyone was shaken. That the teacher's voice went funny after leaving your name out during Attendance on purpose. You do not know that there was a strange kind of silence. How everyone was breathing in remorse, and breathing out regret. The air was heavy.
I remember. I do, believe me. That you wore different coloured clips every day. And your red backpack and the wry smile. I remember that people, a lot of them, they were not kind to you. But you, you're not here to see that they cringe at the thought of hurting you now. Because even though you've left, you've taught me something I will not forget to remember and that is to never to be unkind to anyone. Because I did not know. That I wouldn't be able to see you smile ever again. And I could've, would've made you smile if I had known. But I know now. That there is might in absence. That no one could ever have known the light, if they hadn't known the dark.
But death is a beautiful tragedy. How it whisks us away, you and I, and leaves our traces in our loved one's wakes. Like a cloth of satin gathering dust in between worn out bushes and a rough trail of footsteps leading to nowhere. There is great mystery in being infinite. And the could've, would've, should've-s? They count for something. The sting of memories and the wavering Sepia, stored somewhere that I have to reach, that I need to reach even if I do not want to.
I'll pray for your forgiveness and that God grants you a place in the most beautiful parts of heavens. You were loved, Aurooj, because your mother cried and your friend cried and every one was staring blankly at each other today. And I promise to you that if I remember, I will think of you when the things people say hurt me, and be strong. Because hurt is temporary, just like you and me.
You've begun your journey to infinity, and I do not know of mine. But when Fate leaves it traces in classrooms and homes and old clothes belonging to old cupboards, I am reminded to prepare for it because people you've left behind might have no time left.
Rest in peace, Aurooj. Thank you for remembering my birthday weeks before anyone else did.
Love,
A Friend.
Where are you? I know how you are. I know what you were. But I do not know where. Because you did not walk into the class this morning. But you do not know. You do not know that everyone was shaken. That the teacher's voice went funny after leaving your name out during Attendance on purpose. You do not know that there was a strange kind of silence. How everyone was breathing in remorse, and breathing out regret. The air was heavy.
I remember. I do, believe me. That you wore different coloured clips every day. And your red backpack and the wry smile. I remember that people, a lot of them, they were not kind to you. But you, you're not here to see that they cringe at the thought of hurting you now. Because even though you've left, you've taught me something I will not forget to remember and that is to never to be unkind to anyone. Because I did not know. That I wouldn't be able to see you smile ever again. And I could've, would've made you smile if I had known. But I know now. That there is might in absence. That no one could ever have known the light, if they hadn't known the dark.
But death is a beautiful tragedy. How it whisks us away, you and I, and leaves our traces in our loved one's wakes. Like a cloth of satin gathering dust in between worn out bushes and a rough trail of footsteps leading to nowhere. There is great mystery in being infinite. And the could've, would've, should've-s? They count for something. The sting of memories and the wavering Sepia, stored somewhere that I have to reach, that I need to reach even if I do not want to.
I'll pray for your forgiveness and that God grants you a place in the most beautiful parts of heavens. You were loved, Aurooj, because your mother cried and your friend cried and every one was staring blankly at each other today. And I promise to you that if I remember, I will think of you when the things people say hurt me, and be strong. Because hurt is temporary, just like you and me.
You've begun your journey to infinity, and I do not know of mine. But when Fate leaves it traces in classrooms and homes and old clothes belonging to old cupboards, I am reminded to prepare for it because people you've left behind might have no time left.
Rest in peace, Aurooj. Thank you for remembering my birthday weeks before anyone else did.
Love,
A Friend.
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