I've been "away" from this blog for almost 3 weeks. From the studied "casual" remarks made by a few people I know some of my readers (dare I say "fan club"!) have kind of missed me.... and that is what THIS posting is all about....
I've never actually had anyone give me a real solid whack, a knock out punch. Have seen it in the movies, have seen it on TV when one watches a boxing encounter or some such thing. Have read about it in novels. Have never really actually had someone give me a right royal huge big punch right in my nice and ample stomach. So, truly, honestly, I don't know how that would feel - literally speaking. But, FIGURATIVELY, I've come close to that feeling. Recently. And have staggered with the almost physical pain of the moment.
And have not yet come to terms with that pain.
When the phone buzzes at 5 on a morning you know it is bad news. It was. 4th April 2012, I felt a sledge-hammer blow somewhere in the region of my chest. A very close friend (no, that is not fair - someone who I've always considered as my BigB) called to say that another very close friend had died. There's no way to couch the news and reduce the pain. The death, especially the sudden, entirely unexpected, untimely death of a very close friend is a pain with no anaesthesia of any sort.
Dipankar, 48, colleague, friend, ever smiling, ever pleasant, a keen insurance professional with a level head on his shoulders, feet firmly on the ground, head sometimes up in the clouds dreaming dreams that helped me and him bond in non-insurance ways.... Dipankar, husband, father, loved by virtually all that knew him.... strange how much I will continue to miss him for all time.
The end, when it came, was so sudden, so shockingly sudden. Just the previous day we had met, spent a memorable evening together, generally chit-chatting, having fun the way we usually did, some gentle leg-pulling ("D", as we used to call him, had this wonderful way of making fun of one without causing the slightest offence, that smile on his face giving such a wonderful feeling even as he joked about one). We parted after a lovely dinner, continuing to crack jokes and planning the next meeting, sometime soon... early morning, before 4 am D was gone.
Just like that?! No more jokes, no more smiles, no more sharing thoughtful (why, even thoughtless!) sms's or technical discussions... No more?!
Leaving behind God knows what! A grieving wife, of course. A son who needs a father's guidance at the threshold of his life, that too. God knows what else...
Sudden deaths can be so brutally messy, no? Life, unfortunately, consists of so many inter-connected (and, sometimes, even unconnected) compartments. It does not offer one the luxury of an "Annual Accounts Closing Date", no 31st Marches, no auditors, no balance sheets, no schedules.... rarely, death comes with a prior notice period, giving one an opportunity to "prepare" as one may. More often, it steals one away, leaving those still alive with the bits and pieces....
This is not the first time. Once before, another close friend, Bhaskar, left equally suddenly - 17th November, a date burned in memory.
I'm still in a state of ...... shock? Grief? Depression? I don't really know what this feeling is, how to describe this... what I know is this: somehow, the "muse" that kept me writing on strange, off beat topics, that muse seems to have taken a vacation. I do not feel all right, I do not feel like writing, in fact this whole damn post feels so clumsy and inept.
In fact, I feel as if with D's going away a part of me has gone away too.
I've never actually had anyone give me a real solid whack, a knock out punch. Have seen it in the movies, have seen it on TV when one watches a boxing encounter or some such thing. Have read about it in novels. Have never really actually had someone give me a right royal huge big punch right in my nice and ample stomach. So, truly, honestly, I don't know how that would feel - literally speaking. But, FIGURATIVELY, I've come close to that feeling. Recently. And have staggered with the almost physical pain of the moment.
And have not yet come to terms with that pain.
When the phone buzzes at 5 on a morning you know it is bad news. It was. 4th April 2012, I felt a sledge-hammer blow somewhere in the region of my chest. A very close friend (no, that is not fair - someone who I've always considered as my BigB) called to say that another very close friend had died. There's no way to couch the news and reduce the pain. The death, especially the sudden, entirely unexpected, untimely death of a very close friend is a pain with no anaesthesia of any sort.
Dipankar, 48, colleague, friend, ever smiling, ever pleasant, a keen insurance professional with a level head on his shoulders, feet firmly on the ground, head sometimes up in the clouds dreaming dreams that helped me and him bond in non-insurance ways.... Dipankar, husband, father, loved by virtually all that knew him.... strange how much I will continue to miss him for all time.
The end, when it came, was so sudden, so shockingly sudden. Just the previous day we had met, spent a memorable evening together, generally chit-chatting, having fun the way we usually did, some gentle leg-pulling ("D", as we used to call him, had this wonderful way of making fun of one without causing the slightest offence, that smile on his face giving such a wonderful feeling even as he joked about one). We parted after a lovely dinner, continuing to crack jokes and planning the next meeting, sometime soon... early morning, before 4 am D was gone.
Just like that?! No more jokes, no more smiles, no more sharing thoughtful (why, even thoughtless!) sms's or technical discussions... No more?!
Leaving behind God knows what! A grieving wife, of course. A son who needs a father's guidance at the threshold of his life, that too. God knows what else...
Sudden deaths can be so brutally messy, no? Life, unfortunately, consists of so many inter-connected (and, sometimes, even unconnected) compartments. It does not offer one the luxury of an "Annual Accounts Closing Date", no 31st Marches, no auditors, no balance sheets, no schedules.... rarely, death comes with a prior notice period, giving one an opportunity to "prepare" as one may. More often, it steals one away, leaving those still alive with the bits and pieces....
This is not the first time. Once before, another close friend, Bhaskar, left equally suddenly - 17th November, a date burned in memory.
I'm still in a state of ...... shock? Grief? Depression? I don't really know what this feeling is, how to describe this... what I know is this: somehow, the "muse" that kept me writing on strange, off beat topics, that muse seems to have taken a vacation. I do not feel all right, I do not feel like writing, in fact this whole damn post feels so clumsy and inept.
In fact, I feel as if with D's going away a part of me has gone away too.
Shocked to hear about Dipankar.... Last I met him was with u guys at the weekly dinner at Andheri. Had been associated with him since my early days in Oriental. Always felt good interacting with Dipankar.... he always had a sunny attitude towards life. His tongue-in-cheek humor and his carefree demeanour.....
ReplyDeleteWill surely miss him.
Sandeep Mahajan