Death.

Wasn't preparing myself to write on this anyway.

I started writing this letter while on a bus traveling my way back to home last Friday. It took me a week almost to post this today. You will know why I am writing on this when we get to the end.

I was sitting in the first corner of a three-seater. Definitely not towards the window side where I wouldn’t be able to stretch my legs. It was the very back side of the driver's seat. A narrow space down. It was a government bus. A girl thought of sitting next to me. But then she asked me to sit next to her in a two-seater. Now you might wonder why would someone ask me to sit next to them. I did too. But then I understood she was new to the place where she had wanted to go. She wanted someone next to her to keep her informed of the stop and to have some good conversations. She looked bright not by the glow of her skin but by the way she spoke up to me like we were never strangers. She started talking first. We exchanged more glances of smiles than words. She again asked me to help her with the stop where she wanted to get down and was happy that I would accompany her till we had to part ways from each other. We started talking about what and where we were studying. I chuckled saying nobody identifies me as a 26-year-old woman doing her PhD cause I was looking so lean and young. She laughed agreeing on my self-imposed self-revelation. When I asked her age, she gave out a wry smile asking me to guess it. She looked very much like me, lean and young, and I slowly said you must be around my age. But she smiled saying she was one year younger than me. She said I looked like one of her students who also wore specs and how much she liked her. She had been working as a tutor in the same college after her Bachelors where she was now pursuing her Master’s as well. We were now talking like friends and she even pulled a question paper out of her bag and explained the questions to me. It was on some gynecology subject. Clinical terms. Right now as I am writing it from my past memory, only women, the uterus, childbirth and some cancer related to that process comes to my mind. But I loved the way she had explained it to me like I was a child. As we kept sharing more about each other she told me that her grandfather had been admitted in a government hospital. He kept smoking too much and gotten worse all of a sudden and that is why she was on her way to the hospital. I could sense the tension in her voice. She couldn't go earlier as she had her final year exams running and that was her last exam. With a sense of great relief, she admitted that it was her most relaxed feeling in the world after the final exam and was happy to have been done with her post-graduate degree finally. But the call of an emergency situation from her home had kept her head full. She said her grandfather used to smoke heavily. And now she didn't know what he had been diagnosed with. It scared me so much as I knew what my father was also into. We exchanged silence as I told her about my fear. She looked worrisome and started feeling bad again for not being there earlier. She then explained how hard and risky it was to skip an exam in her nursing course. Her words were heavy now and I couldn't help but only listen. We were the only passengers on that bus. As we kept talking, many started to board. It was getting late for us. Right when we saw the driver start the engine, the bus took a halt and he asked all of us to get down and board another bus as he was asked to change his route to a different place (Tiruvannamalai) by his higher officials. A moment of silence took over us. We got down hurriedly finding our ways to a private bus. Luckily it was half empty. I knew it would very well take a long time to start than normal for they always get the bus jam-packed cramming all in tightly. It tested our patience. More. The girl was in an emergency situation already and I was worried about her.

I didn't want to disturb her, she seemed very tired so I plugged in my headphones and started listening to a class. She also seemed restless and even more tensed to reach the hospital soon. I kept telling her we would reach soon and not to worry.

I was talking to my friend over phone. But still I was worried about the girl next to me. After some time, she seemed all numb, wiping her eyes and when I asked her what was wrong she told me with a heavy heart what both of us didn't want to happen. Her grandfather was dead. I had just gone blank and couldn't find the right words at that moment to help her. But I kept telling her not to blame herself for not being there earlier with her family. I knew she was silently screaming inside. I could sense how fast her head was spinning with the heaviness of loss even though we were only sitting. I have never been in such a situation. It was new for me. I tried what I could to help her feel okay. But still I think I failed her.

I now feel bad about what comments I gave her on that day,

All of us are eventually going to die. Do not worry about what we cannot control. It's okay. You will heal.

The thoughts were all spontaneous and I don't know why I had said that to a heart that was in pain already. I now deeply understand it wouldn't have helped her much when she was already going through a painful lose. But then she gave out an ironic smile mixed with tears. I now feel sorry anyway.

That was when silence took over me and I started writing these thoughts below in my phone notes,

What would I say to a heart wallowing in pain from the loss of a loved one?

What would I do to stop her tears?

What words of comfort would stand above all her heart's discomfort?

I am speechless now and even more terrified.

Not by death but by what it could do to us.

In silent waves. In silent screams.

I asked her number and name only when she was about to get down from the bus. I feel sorry for her. Now in retrospection, I think that she might have got okay and fine. I had even called her and asked how she and her family was now coping with what had happened.

I always write from a strong heart. Now it feels heavy and closed. I am now scared of facing the death of my loved ones. It's inevitable. I understand life is only a small game. And aren't we all gonna die one after other anyway? Why does it have to scare us when it comes to our loved ones? Let me keep that dilemma for some other day. I now need peace as I always come here for that. It's okay when death triumphs over us all. It's okay to let it numb us. It's okay to let it play it's game. It's okay to realize our that time is always limited. It's okay to let it change us. It's okay to let it make us feel weak. Scared. Worried. Lost. Incomplete. Hopeless. Whatever.

I now strongly believe it is our sole responsibility whether to help ourselves heal or get destroyed by what death could bring to us. It is an unbearable loss definitely. I agree. Still I think we are all strong enough innately to get through any kind of loss for it always takes a great deal of weakness in the beginning to come out strong later.

PS: It's okay to carry a fragile heart and still keep believing in the strength it can give to us. With this note, I here end this letter. I know I have dragged this too much. I always suck in narration. It's my first attempt in writing about an incident that took over me. Keep reading please for I have my heart and soul here always aching to write and heal. Thanks for staying here even when I don't post regularly. I love you.

With Peace,

Revathi Ganesh