Miss you, Dadiji.

“Nukul, tu mila nahi beta? Mai Rajasthan jaa rahi hu.”

“Arre Dadiji, aap wapas aoge tab milta hu, aaj gym jaana hai.”

Dadiji wapas nahi aai.

It so happened that she breathed her last in the home where she belonged. As poetic as it was, it was painful. Painful because there was a lot I had to say to Dadiji.

About how she kept our crazy bunch together through thick and thin. About how she cared for one and all with the least bias possible. How she was great at tying gud-haldi on my wounds each time I fell down. How nobody can make the Khichiya and Daal Dhokli that she did. How she saved me from my Dad, each time he ran to beat me up for being a naughty kid. How she absorbed all the stress and pain in our household so nobody else had to. How she taught us to keep family first – because, to her, that was her real wealth. And how she hummed those religious jingles and made us feel like everything was fine.

All this and more – but I couldn’t. Because the next time I saw her, she was wrapped in white. Bloated and quiet. She didn’t say anything about my shabby hair l, nor did she scold me for wearing shorts in front of adults – abhi tu bachha nahi hai, ghoda ho gaya hai itna bada.

I barely cried that day. I went out to play cricket. I couldn’t think straight – I had suddenly realized that she was important to me. Never before I had felt so connected to her, and yet so far from her.

That was the day I heard so many close relatives talk about how great a human she was. After her death, we heard showers of praises for years.. and I wondered, who cares? She is no more.

I vowed that I’ll never let this happen again. I’ll never be the one to share my feelings with someone posthumously. Life is now. With the people who are still around you, who love you and who you care about. It doesn’t matter what we think of someone once they leave us, but while they’re here, we can communicate our love, anger, and joy.

Life has been so much more beautiful eversince. I guess, even in her death, Dadiji left me with something that made my life better.

Miss you, Dadiji. Aapka Nukul bada ho raha hai, aur pehle jitna naalayak bhi nahi hai.