I remember your reading English, Hindi and Bangla novels in school. I would come back home from school and tell my mother that “I saw Upamanyu reading a Bangla novel today; it was this fat (gesturing as much). And my mother would immediately start comparing me with you - “Why can’t you be more like Upamanyu?” She would then beam with pride that sounded something like “my son goes to a school where good boys like Upamanyu go!” Staying true to her devout ‘Indianness’, she would inquire about your marks from time to time - you, along with a few others, were a benchmark of academic quality!

I feel I could have far better conversations with you now. I’d tell you that I’d rob a bank to have a tiny fragment of your childlike innocence in me; tell you that you were one of my most favorite people in school; tell you that you deserved to live much longer than you did so you could light up the paths of the people around you with your knowledge and kindness! You had a gift of God, dear brother! But He decided to take you away rather soon - sooner than I could gather up the courage to pick up the phone and call you or shoot you a text to tell you all this and all else that I’d imagined to tell you! I still wish you could come back a last time and share a meal with us - all the 12-C peeps!

That you are in a better place right now, I have no doubt, Opo. The flame of your loving memory will always shine bright in my heart, dear brother! Take care buddy, rest in peace!

Lovingly,
Abhinav